What Do You Shrink?
by SoFrost
Summary: They act like a married couple, they fight like a married couple, might as well treat them like one to solve their relational issues... C/S
1. Chapter 1

**fDisclaimer: **I still don't own anything but my poor words

**Summary**: They act like a married couple, they fight like a married couple, might as well treat them like one to solve their relational issues... C/S

**A/N:**Frosty's in the house! Howdy everybody, Mojo took a longer break than I had expected but he's back to work so here's my new story a bit different, it's a three pov story and should be a nice ride.

As always it's a C/S story, so if you don't like, don't read ;)

Hope you enjoy,

So ;)

**ps: **scuby** thank you for everything as always ;)**

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What Do You Shrink?

**By SoFrost**

I watch my old friend turning into a five year old boy again as he plays with the new spider I just offered him; one among so many others. I take a look around although I know each items of this office like it was mine. There are different dead things captured in jars – pig foetus, brain, kidney, heart…

Some might find that gruesome but just like my old friend, I find this fascinating. Essences of life, subtly captured into jars, like a perfumer would capture and recreate the most delicate and intoxicating scent.

I lift myself up from the corner of the desk I am perched on and walk to the bookcase observing one specific spider. I tap my finger against the glass of her terrarium gently.

"Betty doesn't seem so good" I state.

"I think she's been depressed lately," my old friend says concerned.

I take the cover off of the terrarium and take the trapdoor spider in my hand.

"Hey there beautiful. What's wrong? Are you bored?" I ask with a gentle voice as the spider walks into my opened palm and starts the ascension of my arm. "She might need company. You know… to cheer her up. Ever since Boop left she's been sad. If you want I can take her with me for a few days. I'm sure Lola wouldn't mind," I propose.

"I don't know. I don't like the idea of having her away from me. But I'll give it some thought."

Someone clears their throat at the door to catch our attention.

"Gentlemen, sorry to interrupt the meeting of 'the spiders friends', but I believe you paged me Griss," a blonde says looking at the spiders with a mix of disgust and fear.

She's petite, she has long strawberry blonde hair. She has piercing blue eyes, and her look is enough to kill anyone right on the spot. The least I can say is that she dominates the room. Her posture is straight and authority and power are oozing from her. She's fixing me with curiosity yet she's letting me know that whoever I am, I'm not intimidating her.

I return my attention to Betty silently. One more guest is missing.

"Yes I did. Come in Catherine and have a seat." Gil says still playing with his own spider.

"Did you think about a name?" I ask him still looking at Betty.

"How about Bella? She's truly beautiful," he says with a soft smile.

"Sorry I'm late but I had some results to pick up first," a second feminine voice says entering the room.

I look up and see a tall, lanky brunette coming in. She's less imposing than the blonde, yet there's something about her that is instinctively cold. As soon as she sees me her posture straightens up as if she was ready to fight. But I think she gets truly defensive once she acknowledges the presence of the blonde. Interesting.

She takes a seat and glances at me and Gil.

"I see you've made yourself a new friend," she says with a smirk, being purposefully ambiguous as to know whether she's speaking of me or the spider.

"Yes, her name is Bella she's a Grammostola Cala also called Rosy Tarantula…" Gil says too focus on his new friend to pick up on it.

"A new friend and a new spider… Boy, someone got lucky today," the blonde adds sarcastically, which makes the brunette chuckles.

Well, well, two sharp minds, working as one. Really interesting.

"Betty it is time for you to go back home." I say to the spider on my arm. I take it gently and put her back into her terrarium. "Bye gorgeous."

Grissom puts back Bella into her new home and then focuses on the two women in the room. The four of us stay silent, studying each other with interest. Then the blonde loses her patience first.

"Grissom, please tell me you didn't make us come here just to meet your new 'pet'."

"No that's not the only reason." He says while cleaning a bit his desk.

Once he finishes, he sits comfortably and looks at both the women silently. I know he's looking for the right way to announce the new to them. My personal opinion is that there is no such thing as a smooth way to tell this. Besides for the little I know of those women, I could bet my pay check that the pill won't be swallowed easily.

"Excuse me if I sound rude but I do have better things to do than sit here in silence," the brunette says harshly.

"Ditto," the blonde adds.

Gil takes a deep breath and decides to face hell.

"Since both of the teams have been somewhat reunited, it's my duty to make sure that we don't repeat the same mistakes from the past. That's why I think it's important for the both of you and the well being of the team that the two of you sort out your relational issues."

"Well we're getting along just fine and I think I'm speaking for the both of us when I say that in spite of our differences we've always managed to work together," the blonde provides.

"We might not be best friends…" The brunette starts. Both women snort at this. "Or friends at all," the brunette corrects herself. "But when it comes to work we are professionals. And if I might add lately we don't have relational issues."

"The last six years taught me that your truces rarely last. That's why I decided to fix the problem." Grissom answers.

"There's no problem to fix Grissom." The blonde repeats.

"Yet. There's no problem yet." Gil replies.

"Your point being?" The brunette enquires.

"The two of you have relational issues." Gil repeats his previous statement.

"Yes we do, but not any more than anyone else, we both have strong and opposite personalities so issues are bound to happen. But we do get along." The brunette provides.

"Out of necessity. Every one on the team has a great relationship with one another, at work and outside of it. Every one except the two of you that is." Gil says.

"Grissom, we're going in circles here. What's the point of this meeting? Why are we here?" The brunette says frustrated.

"Because I think it's time for the both of you to solve your issues from the past in order to have a brand new, healthy and balanced relationship. It's time for you to make a fresh start. It's time to make peace not just a truce."

"Translation?" The blonde says exasperated.

Here comes the bomb.

"The two of you are going to see a counsellor together."

There's a deafening silence due to the deflagration. The two women stare at Gil, too surprised to say anything just yet. They're trying to process his words and they're trying to find out if he actually meant them. They both do a nice imitation of a fish out of water. Then their looks change, in both pair of eyes I can see a fire being ignited. They are two fires from different kinds but animated by the same passion. The brunette has a cold stare yet intense whereas the blonde has this boiling inflamed glare. Ice and fire, so opposite and yet so alike.

I can predict the future and I'm positive when I say that in about two seconds, someone in this room is about to have their head chopped off. I give you a clue: it isn't me.

"Did you fall and hit your head when you woke up today?" The blonde ask in an aggressive tone.

"Catherine…" Gil tries.

"Well did you?" She replies.

"No I haven't and…"

"Oh so you woke up and decide to give up your position as a CSI to actually become a comedian, right?" The brunette asks seriously.

"Sara!" Gil protests.

"Grissom." She just replies.

"Counselling? Counselling?! What are you? Out of your mind?" The blonde starts. She takes a few breaths in order to get her cool back. "This has to be the most ridiculous, grotesque and… absurd idea you have ever had in the whole decade I've known you!"

"Catherine would you please calm down…" Gil tries but to no avail.

"No I don't get to do such a thing right now!" She snaps "Not when you're exposing me your last craze!"

Gil takes a deep breath. "Married couples get to counselling together to solve their issues and…"

"How lovely… I hate to break it to you but Sara and I aren't married!" The blonde cuts him off.

"Heaven forbid…" The brunette adds.

"True but you actually spend as much time if not more time together than a married couple." Gil says calmly.

"Well there is no way I'm going to counselling with Sara, when she's the one who has a problem with me in the first place!" The blonde says.

"Sara is still in the room for one and then,… uh " The brunette snorts "That's typical of you Catherine. Ever the mature adult, if you have a problem blame it on the others," the brunette answers coldly.

"Go to hell Sidle!" The blonde snaps. She turns her attention to Gil again angry. "I won't go, period. As a supervisor I don't take orders from you anymore."

The brunette snorts with a sweet smile. "You're pathetic."

"Ladies! This animosity you're displaying shows exactly why you need to see a counsellor together! You will go Catherine whether you like it or not. I have the high powers behind my back so if you want to complain be my guest! That goes for you too Sara," Gil shouts silencing immediately the blonde but not taming her anger. He marks a pause and composes himself again before adding. "Now, it's either the counselling either a record of each argument and incident between you in your file from now on. I decided that counselling was the best option for both your careers."

"Grissom, counselling also figures in the personal files so I don't see how it's supposed to be the best option," the brunette replies.

"It's going to be a strictly off record procedure." He announces.

That's where I come in.

"Catherine, Sara, I'd like you to meet Adam Stevenson. He's a friend of mine. He's a psychiatric and psychotherapist. He's going to be your counsellor. Now I want you to know that he will keep me posted on the progress of the sessions, so don't even think about getting out of this while I've got my back turned. Adam, meet Catherine Willows and Sara Sidle." Gil introduces me.

I nod in acknowledgement. "Pleasure to meet you both," I say.

They're not really happy to know who I am and I think they won't like me for a long time to come, but I can't say I blame them.

"How long is this going to take?" Sara asks to Gil. I take the liberty to answer.

"Well, that will depend on how cooperative you are," I state.

"You will have a one hour session three times a week after your shift, to start," Gil informs them.

"Wow, hold on. Time out, ok?! I'd like you to keep in mind that I still have daughter who I hardly see enough, and now you want me to take three hours on her time?! I'm sorry but this is not something I will concede. I'd rather take the record in my file or being fired," Catherine says firmly.

"Don't worry I already thought about it. The two of you will be clocking out early three times a week. With all the overtime you're pulling it won't be a problem, you won't lose anything on your paycheck."

Once again silence settles into the room. Both women though angry at Gil have accepted the fact that they won't escape this. And something tells me that if I could read minds I would hear each one of them enumerate me the different ways to get rid of a body without leaving traces.

"You have to understand that in a strictly practical point of view you will have to work solos or be paired up together." Gil adds.

"That's just great!" Catherine says flatly.

"Well it's not like it could get any worse." Sara adds. "Anything else?" She asks sweetly.

"I believe that's it for today," Gil says.

"Well I disagree. I think you might want to know that our first meeting is set tomorrow. Gil will give you the directions to my office. And… That's it." I say gently.

Both the women give me a death glare.

"You're free to leave." Gil tells them.

They stand up and walk out of the office silently, boiling rage still oozing from them.

Gil and I watch their departure. "So what do you think?" He asks me.

"It's going to be long and painful. Matter of fact it's going to be a hell of a ride but boy will it be fun…" I answer honestly with a smile. "I just can't wait to start. They're fascinating, and so… explosive."

"I know. Watch your back though, they know how to cover a murder and together they are a terrific item. So if something goes wrong even I won't be able to find your body or prove that they did it, " Gil says with a pensive tone.

I chuckle. "You're teasing me right?" I look at him but his expression is so serious that my smile fades. "Well, I'll keep that in mind then."

I stand from his desk and walk to the door.

"Oh, by the way, thanks again for Bella." He says while sitting back at his desk to work again.

"You're welcome."

"Adam." He calls me back. "Take a great care of them." He says seriously and he has that look that says 'if you mess up with them you'll have to deal with me' – well a look full of concern.

"You have my word, I will."

"Good luck then."

I smile at him and then leave his office. My mind is already on my two new patients. Two really eloquent, strong and intelligent women. Two women who seem so diametrically opposed and yet so much alike. Two pieces of a wonderful puzzle. Two riddles that I'm eager to solve.

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**Thanks for reading.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey everybody, first thank you so much for your reviews. I am so sorry about the long delay since last chap, but health comes first since I can't write if I'm ill. Anyway, i'm back. To answer some questions it's a 3 pov story, so in between sessions, you'll have either Sara or Cath's pov. I shall let you read then.**

**Enjoy,**

**So ;)**

**ps: **scuby,** thank you for helping me out, you rock ;)**

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Chapter 2

Today is the first session with my two new patients.

Sara arrived two minutes ago – with ten minutes to spare. I offered her a seat but right now it seems that she's more interested in my library. I think it's her way to distract herself. We still have to wait for Catherine to arrive. I take that opportunity to observe Sara.

In spite of her nonchalant behaviour I can feel her nervousness, or I think it more likely a feeling of uneasiness. She's fidgeting imperceptibly and she's looking everywhere as if to see if there was any other exit except the door. She takes a deep breath to calm herself and then takes a seat with determination.

"Can I ask you a question?" I say from my easy chair.

She chuckles "Why do you ask for my permission? You're going to ask me the question no matter my answer so there's no need to make it looking like I actually had the choice," she answers with a flat tone.

"I did it just to be polite."

"Yeah, well forget about politeness; since you're about to psychologically violate me and my privacy with your questions for the next days. My drift being that since I'm going to get screwed, you can skip the foreplays without too much remorse, " she says bitterly.

Well she answered my question without knowing it. "What number am I?" I ask with a grin.

She looks at me intently, for a moment she's confused and about to ask me what I meant but I see recognition setting in her eyes. She smirks a bit "Seven, if I recall correctly," she says after giving it some thoughts.

"Seven? Lucky number."

"No offence intended but I don't think there's such a thing as a lucky number for people like you."

"People like me? Mid thirties, brown-haired, green-eyed man?" I joke.

"Therapists," she comes back flatly.

I chuckle "None taken."

"Are those real?" She asks looking at my diplomas.

"Yes."

"That's a lot for one person, and only one life time. Physics, Mathematics, Art, History, Psychology and Medicine," she turns her attention back to me. "Either you are older than you look either you're a fraud. What's you're secret?"

"I was 13 when I majored in Art; 15 for the History; 20 for the Mathematics; 22 for Physics. And finally I was 26 when I majored in Psychology and Medicine."

"So you're some kind of genius," she states.

"Not really, I just like to think that I learn fast."

"Yeah to say the least." She says with a sarcastic smile.

"You're not bad either. Physics, Art and Biology, all those with flying colours." I throw in nonchalantly.

"See what I meant by violating me and my privacy?" She answers coldly.

I'm spared to answer by Catherine appearance. She has five minutes late. Definitely not a good thing.

"Catherine, glad you've decided to grace us with your presence." I say flatly.

"I'm sorry, I'm late."

"Thanks for the tip but I had noticed." I come back.

"Look I did my best and I apologised."

"I've accepted your apology, now it doesn't change the matter does it?" I state, before she can reply I continue "I expect the two of you to be punctual, so you see in that case doing your best wasn't enough."

She sends me a death glare and I know right at this moment she has put my name on her shit list. She sits onto the couch next to Sara. Or should I say away from Sara. It's funny because my couch isn't that big yet three people could easily fit between them.

"Well now that everyone is here I think it's time for me to establish the rules. Basically there are four golden rules. First: you don't lie to me. Second: you don't lie to me. Third: I'm the master in command, you don't question me; I decide what we talk about; I ask the questions I want to ask, I throw you out of here if I feel like it. My place, my rules. And forth: if people talk about what's said here or what happens here, then it means that the leak comes from one of you, because I'm bound to confidentiality. Any questions?"

"Yes do we have to worship you O great master?" Sara says sarcastically.

I smile but don't answer. "I realise that it can be hard to talk but when I ask a question I want an honest answer. But here the thing, I don't want you to see me as a slaughter so you have two jokers by session. Let's say that I ask you a question and you don't want to answer it, then you use your joker and the subject is closed. But it's only temporary; the joker is only a way to take a step back in order to make a better jump. Meaning I will ask you the question again some time later and this time you'll have to answer." I let my words sink, taking the opportunity to see if I have missed something or not.

"Last, if you want to drink or eat there's sodas, water, juice and food in the fridge in the cupboards right over there, so feel free. You're free to express your feelings and to say whatever's on your mind. You're free to leave."

They both snort in unison. "Sure we are." Sara says.

"Yes you are. You're not bound to the couch; you can get up and walk out of here if you want to."

"Sure and then I'll have to face Grissom for some fascinating lecture."

"Well actions have consequences; I don't think I'm teaching anything new here. So when you make a choice the consequences are yours to deal with." I give her time to eventually reply. "Well now that everything is settled let's get the party started." I say with a smile.

"When was the last time you had a fight?" I ask after a moment.

They both look around as if to make me disappeared. It doesn't seem like any of them was about to speak anytime soon. The hardest part in my job is to actually open the dialogue. See it as a tap, once you find the way to open it everything flows, absolutely everything, but you have to find the trick to open it.

Sometimes you have to be pushy. You have to push all the buttons relentlessly to have a reaction. Sometimes you just have to be silent. Some people can't stand silent. For all I know so far, Sara and I are comfortable with silence, Catherine however seems to be affected by it. She's fidgeting and she's trying to think about something distracting which isn't working apparently. My opinion? She will talk first if not to answer my question just to fill the silence.

I look at the both of them alternately and wait patiently for Catherine to crack. I look at the silent clock in front of me. There's ten seconds left to make three whole minutes.

"Two weeks ago." Catherine says hastily after two minutes and fifty seconds of silence. Well she almost made it to the three minutes which is more than I expected.

Sara doesn't say anything she just snorts, which has an immediate effect on the blonde who turns her attention to her. "Do you have anything to say Sidle?" Catherine asks in defiance with a scornful tone.

Sara looks at her for a moment before replying "Yes, Cat, I have a problem, your short term memory sucks." There's as much despise in her voice than in Catherine. They engage themselves into a will contest it's called 'who will look away first'.

Wow, two seconds and there's enough tension to choke on. Interesting. Another interesting bit there's something with their names. Clearly Catherine wanted to have the upper hand keeping Sara at distance by calling her by her last name. Sara didn't back away and actually shortened Catherine's name and at this precise moment Catherine tensed up. Something tells me that Catherine always uses Sara's last name when she wants to take the upper hand. However I think Sara doesn't cross the 'name line' often, I think of it more as her nuclear weapon.

Since they seem to have totally forgotten about me, so I remind them of my presence. "What do you mean Sara?"

They keep on looking at each other and then Sara turns slowly her attention at me. Her facial expression says 'you're pathetic' to Catherine who keeps on shooting daggers at her.

"Well I remember arguing with you two days ago." Sara says to the window behind me but addressing to Catherine

"Oh please we can't call that an argument." Catherine says with despise.

"Sure it won't figure in the top ten of our record but it still was an argument."

Well there's only one way to cut the deal. "Tell me about it." I ask to no one in particular. Then look at me again. "Better yet I want you to enact it."

"I'm afraid not to understand? Enacting our argument? How are we supposed to do such a thing?" Sara exclaims

"Well I want each of you to tell me how it happened and to say your lines like you did two days ago." I explain. "It's a fact, whether you realised it or not, whenever you have an argument or an important conversation, hours after it happened, you re-enact it in your head. Sometimes it's out of pure vanity because you're proud of what you've said, sometimes it's just out of frustration and then you think about what you should have said or done, sometimes it's just out of curiosity because you want to know where things changed, at what point you took the road you ended up taking and why. The bottom line is you're analysing those things, it's a process of rationalisation."

I give them a minute to absorb all my speech and then I decide to start the exercise "Now, first I want you to tell me what the argument was about"

"Coffee." Sara says with a colourless voice.

"Coffee?" Wow, if they can argue about simple things then it means that the tangled web they're caught in is wider and trickier than I originally imagined. "Interesting." I state. "Sara, describe me what you were doing before it happened."

She sighs "Well, I was in the break room, having a mug of coffee with Nick. We were chatting and teasing each other and laughing, like we usually do."

"All right, then what happened?" I push her.

"Catherine came into the room, she went to the coffee pot, but the pot was empty and since her highness couldn't get her coffee, she took it out on me." She says with a smirk.

"Ok, Catherine you take it from here." I say looking at the blonde.

"So I told her that…"

"Stop… I want you to say your words exactly like you did two days ago, like you were saying them to Sara today. I want you to talk to Sara." I elaborate. "Do you get my point?"

"I think I do." Catherine answers. She sighs and focuses herself. She looks straight ahead and once she speaks again her tone is full of despise and anger. "I can't believe it! When will you understand that once you finish a pot you have to start a new one?!"

Good she understood my point and she's fitting her part just well. I turn my attention to the second player "Sara?"

"Are you trying to send me a message?" She says with defiance.

Well now that the train is on the rails all I have to do is watch and eventually keep it on tracks.

"That's when Nick tired to calm the game a first time." Sara states "Stay out of this Nicky boy," then she turns her attention to Catherine. "So Catherine was there something you wanted to tell me?"

Catherine looks at Sara straight and keeps on "Yes, you should have started a new coffee pot." She says slowly.

"Nick says something like 'but she didn't…'" Sara explains

"Stay out of this!" Catherine almost barks her order to imaginary Nick.

"And why should have I done such a thing?" Sara's tone is always defiant. As if she knew exactly what button to push to get a reaction.

"Because you're not the only one in need of caffeine. Because it's the rule of the break room." Catherine says before snorting "After all this time you could have make an effort to fit in here and respect that," she laughs humourlessly "Somewhere it shouldn't surprise me. Always eager to play rebel or break the rules, aren't we Sidle?"

"No, just eager to piss you off. You see I came to a point where I need my daily fix of bitchy comments." Sara says sarcastically which makes Catherine angrier.

"Start a new coffee pot." Catherine jaw is so tightly clenched that her last line sounded like a growl.

"Look at my face; do you see the word 'maid' tattooed somewhere?"

"No, but I can still clearly decipher the word 'selfish' on your front."

Both of their faces are inches away and they're engaged into a will contest. But so far neither of them back away.

"I tend to be generous only towards my friends, people I respect, and the people who are nice to me… Guess you don't belong to any of those categories."

And then there's a blank. "What next?" I enquire which to my surprise doesn't break the spell.

"Neil comes back and says that he'll start the new pot." Sara says still holding Catherine's stare.

"Don't bother Sara was about to do it." Catherine continues.

"Neil explains her that since he's the one who finished the pot it was his turn to make a new one according to the rule. He says that he was gone only a minute in order to bring a fresh and hot mug to Jacquie." Sara describes the scene. "Then Nick asks why we listen to Neil and why we didn't listen to him. Neil asks if everything is okay, question to which I answer," she sighs "Yes everything is peachy, thanks Neil…Anything else Catherine?" Her voice is cold.

Catherine doesn't say anything. They haven't broken the eye contact ever since they made it. "I thought so." Sara speaks again with a smirk.

Then silence fills the room again. I wait patiently and decide to step in again. "Sara?"

"I left," she just says still looking fiercely at Catherine. I'm surprise I don't see any electricity jumping between those two, the tension is so palpable it's fascinating and uncomfortable at the same time.

"I see. Well, I suggest the two of you to take back your place on the couch, the exercise is over." I state neutrally.

It takes a whole minute for the spell to be broken, for them to break the eye contact. That's when they both realise that they stood during their re-enactment without noticing it. They sit down again and I give her time to settle back their mind with me.

"Ok, let's analyse that argument together." I pause. "Sara." I call and wait for her to look at me "Was Nick having coffee too?"

"Yes." She replies with a frown.

"Catherine how could you know that Sara had finished the pot then?" I ask curious.

"I guess… I didn't." Catherine answers.

"Yet you took it out on Sara."

"No I didn't, I made a general comment but she felt persecuted." Catherine states.

I'm not too convinced but who knows…

"Sure." Sara snorts "General comment my ass, you were looking straight at me so I don't think it was paranoid from me to feel aggressed."

"Is this true? Were you looking at her?' I ask Catherine.

Catherine avoids my look "Yes." She finally answers.

"So you did start the hostilities." I say but more as a statement than an accusation. "Why blaming Sara and not Nick? He too was having coffee."

"I don't know… Habit I guess" Catherine shrugs. Sara snorts at this shaking her head.

"Ok." I turn my attention to Sara "Why did you let the situation escalating to an argument? Why did you let this fight happened?"

"She started it." Sara states.

"We've just established that. That's not my question here." I reply calmly.

"I don't understand your question then," she dismisses me.

I start to see a dynamic here. Catherine opens up quickly and doesn't back down, even if it's only out of pride. Sara on the other hand has put her defensive mechanism up and something tells me, her and I will fight a lot. But I would lie if I'd say it wasn't expected. "My question is: why did you let the situation get out of control? You knew Catherine was wrong you could have told her so. Instead you jump right in and provoked her."

"She started it ok!" Sara repeats.

"Sure she did, but you were the one with the upper hand here. You knew all the facts. You said it yourself, Nick tried to clear the situation but you shut him up and fuel Catherine's temper. You let what could have been a simple misunderstanding escalating to an argument. Why?" I elaborate.

"She was out of line. It was uncalled for."

Catherine snorts "And you dare tell me about maturity." She sneers.

"Get back to the doghouse Cerberus." Sara replies through her teeth.

I step in before Catherine can reply "Sara, answer my question."

"I don't know." Sara shrugs frustrated.

"Well think harder." I decide to change my approach and push her buttons a little.

"Habit." She finally says.

"How original." Catherine mutters.

"I think you wanted that fight, you were aware of having the upper hand but you let Catherine think otherwise, pushing willingly her buttons doing so." I state.

I watch Sara looking at me with her cold anger. She's wondering whether to stand her position or giving me what I want. I stare at her silently. She sighs and straightens up. Seems like I've win this set "To give her a lesson," she states after a long moment.

"Let me laugh…" Catherine starts but I don't let her go any further.

"Catherine, please." I call her into order. "What lesson Sara?"

"I'm not her punching bag. I don't know who pees in her cherrios every morning but it's not me so I don't have to put up with her uncalled for bitchiness." Sara says coldly "Besides since it's what she wants from me I might as well give her a run for her money."

"What do you mean, she wants that from you?" I push a little more.

Sara looks skyward and smirks "Whenever she barks, everyone backs down too intimidated by her way to make you feel like a worm. Me? I bark back. And to be honest I think she likes it. She always seems to be looking for a reason to push my buttons. And it seems like I'm right, because she's always coming back wanting more."

"Catherine, do you want to say something?" I ask the blond.

"What do you want me to say? I'm a bitch and I'm bullying Snow White here. Poor girl and bad me." Catherine says dryly.

"Go to hell Catherine." Sara sighs.

"Listen to you Sara 'I wanted to give her a lesson… I'm not her punching bag…. She's being mean to me…boo hoo hoo' " Catherine pretends to cry then snorts "You sound like a victim."

"I'm not a victim! You're a bitch that's for sure but I am no victim!" Sara snaps aggressively.

"Well you could have fooled me there." Catherine spits back.

"Ladies!" I step in one more time before they start to yell. They stop immediately but keep on looking at each other. I swear I can see fume getting out of their ears. They look like bulls ready to charge, waiting for the signal to charge. "Let's grow up and be civil again shall we?" I say with a firm voice. It takes them a good minute to turn back their attention to me again. "Good, now I want the both of you to take deep breath and calm down."

They comply eventually. "Congratulations." I say cheerfully, they just look at me jaded "We made it through our first session." I let my words sink and expect some kind of reaction but none comes. "You are now free to leave." I add.

"Yippee! 1 session down, 99 to go, cheer up everyone." Sara says tiredly. And even though they were ready to get on each other's throat seconds ago Catherine smirks at Sara's words.

"I'll see you in two days." I dismiss them.

They get up and leave without so much as a glance or a goodbye, not that I was expecting any of those.

Well it wasn't that bad. Somehow though, I think today was a baby game. I massage my temples gently; this is going to be very long.

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	3. Chapter 3

**Hey everyone, thank you all for your reviews. Here's chap 3, I know it's short but a wise friend of mine ( yes that's you **freddie** ;) thank you ) told me that size didn't matter. I'll come back with more soon.**

**Enjoy,**

**So ;)**

**ps: **scuby** once again thank you for helping with this, you're the best ;)**

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**Chapter 3**

_Catherine's pov_

I'm going to kill Grissom. I swear…

I love the man, most of the time at least, but right now, he reached is annual quota of bad things to do, now he's on my shit list.

'_Don't worry, you'll be there in no time…'_

Well, two hours of driving later we're still nowhere near where we're supposed to be, that or we're lost, but according to the GPS or the person reading the map we're on right tracks.

"This is bullshit," I mutter through my teeth.

Sara sighs. "I know, by now we shouldn't have to double up on some piddly case that a level one CSI could do," she says looking up from the map she's holding.

"Exactly," I agree. "I mean, no offence, but at this rate the only thing Grissom will accomplish is for us to have the urge to kill each other."

"Oh, that's already there," she smiles smugly at me before turning to the window.

"Really funny Sidle," I smirk.

Silence lingers a while longer.

"One session and I don't want to go back there."

"Then don't go Catherine," her tone is dismissive, two seconds and the atmosphere has already changed. "No one's holding a gun against your head for you to go," great now she sounds like him, _our_ therapist.

"True, but I honestly don't know what's worse, going or having Grissom on my back," I state pensively.

"Having Grissom on your back isn't such a bad thing, I mean his bark is worse than his bite."

"Obviously you never really had him on your back," I chuckle.

"Right, because I'm his pet right? I'm his favourite CSI and nothing I do ever draw his ire? Is that what you're insinuating?" she snaps immediately.

"Here we go again for the victim act…calm down. I never insinuate anything of such sort. Grissom can be a real pain in the ass, almost as unbearable as Ecklie when he wants, in a less dirty way of course, that's all I'm saying."

She snorts and shakes her head, obviously not really believing me.

"Why is it that you always feel attacked whenever I say something?" I ask truly intrigued.

"I don't know, I'm the victim you're the bully," she says sharply, provoking me obviously.

"Yeah I got that yesterday, so if I get you right I should treat you like a fragile little thing in porcelain, is that it?" I ask calmly.

"You know what? You always do this…you start with me…and then you…you…" she growls a bit with frustration. "Why don't you just drive us to our scene?"

"I was just trying to have a simple conversation, you just get all defensive," I really try my best to keep my voice at normal level, the last thing I want is a fight.

"Have you ever been nice to me?"

"Yes, I have Sara."

"When?"

"Oh brilliant, I didn't know I was supposed to keep track."

"Seriously? We're going to have this argument?"

"No I don't, or that'll be yet another session to have," I reply. "And honestly it's not that I don't enjoy the wonderful quality time we have together outside of work but I'd rather keep it to a minimum."

"Pull over, I'm perfectly happy to finish walking to the scene or wait and catch a ride with a cop that happens by."

"Oh quit being so melodramatic."

Silence surrounds us again. I sigh.

"I'm sorry," I apologize quietly. "This whole thing is putting me on my nerve."

She shrugs but doesn't say anything. Once again I've just destroyed the bridge of communication between us.

"Can I ask you something?" once again she shrugs. "Is it your first?"

"My first what? Crime scene? Well I didn't make it to CSI level 3 just because of my beautiful eyes you know," she smirks.

"Smartass," I chuckle. "I meant, therapy. Is it your first?"

"Yeah," she says without conviction.

"You think it will work?"

"I don't know, but at this point it's not like we had anything to lose, is it?"

"Well we could use that hour differently," I point out. Sara doesn't answer apparently more interested by the landscape. "You don't care, do you?"

"There re worse things in life," she says jaded.

"This is bullshit. I don't see how having someone trying to get in my head can help in anyway."

"Well look at the bright side, at least it will postpone the moment we'll strangle each other."

"It's not funny Sara…" I say grumpily. "Why can't you take anything seriously?" I ask and I can see she's about to answer with venom but I decide to avoid the confrontation. "Nevermind, forget I said anything."

This is pointless. Therapy is pointless, trying to talk to Sara is pointless. This is a waste of time for the both of us and I'm the only one to see it.

This is bullshit.

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**I didn't really feel the groove, but I knew I would have deleted it all if I hadn't posted it and since I also know I won't do better, you'll have to accept this poor chapter as it is. I'll get Mojo to get his groove back next time (hopefully).**

**Thanks for reading**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey there, thank you for your reviews you're the sweetest. Here's chap 4.**

**Enjoy,**

**So ;)**

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**Chapter 4**

The girls arrive both early. It improves my mood in the instant. "Good morning ladies." I greet them I receive mumbles in return – I guess you can't expect too much at the same time. I get up and go serve myself a mug of milk. "So, how are you doing since last time?" They both shrug. "Any new argument?" They didn't answer. "Catherine?"

"We didn't really see each other during those two days, we talked but no new argument."

I take a sip of my milk and wait silently. Catherine barely makes it through the next minute before breaking the silence again. "That's it?" She asks. "If we don't have arguments you're not going to say anything?"

"Right now I don't have any question for you. I'm here to help but basically you're doing the entire job. If there's something in particular you want to say go ahead. You don't have to wait for me to start speaking. I mean, it's about you and Sara here." I simply answer.

I take a look at Sara and she's just lost in her thoughts, looking at the window obviously not interested in what's going on. It's another two minutes of silence before Catherine patience flies out the window "I hate broccoli." She says out of the blue. Sara frowns and shakes her head jaded, I on the other can't help the ghost of a smile on my lips. "It's true I hate broccoli." Catherine repeats seriously since she's met with nothing but silence.

"Well that's really constructive." Sara replies flatly.

"Just as much as your muteness." Catherine comes back.

Sara doesn't answer, she just returns to her silent contemplation. I decide to make things move a bit "What do you hate about Sara?" I ask Catherine.

"What do I hate about Sara uh?" She repeats. She gives it a thought looking at the ceiling "Easy, the thing I hate about Sara is… well Sara." She says with an acerbic tone.

"Really spiritual." Sara mutters.

"That's being a little extreme, don't you think?" I ask Catherine.

"You asked me to be honest, didn't you?"

"Touché." I reply with a calm nod. "Be more specific, then."

"I hate her…" Catherine trails off.

"Yeah, I think you've always made that clear. Thanks, it was so kind of you." Sara comments.

"See, that's exactly what I hate about you. You're fucking attitude." Catherine answers looking at Sara.

There the tap is open.

"I hate your attitude." Catherine states more firmly "You think everyone owes you something. Except yourself nothing is important. You're selfish and you have a fucking high opinion of yourself!"

Sara snorts "That's rich! I mean, it's the hospital mocking the charity." She smirks bitterly "My attitude? What about yours? You walk around like a queen or some kind of empress, you bat your eyelash and everyone is supposed to crawl at your feet giving you what you want!"

"You're a big capricious baby. If things don't go your way you pout and whine until they give what you want, you're pathetic."

"At least I'm not using my sexuality to make my way around."

"Here we go again." Catherine shakes her head in despise "I was wondering when you would bring this up. I'm a bitch and a whore on top of that right?" She snorts "Well it could have been worse, I could have flirt with my boss and turned into an alcoholic."

"Fuck you Catherine." Sara says with a tensed yet even voice.

"Really mature and elaborate." Catherine mocks her. She's having a mean smile knowing she has the upper hand here.

Sara takes a deep breath and relaxes. She smiles before saying "Well at least I still have enough dignity left not to suck Ecklie's dick."

That whips the smug smile off of Catherine's lips in the instant "Take that comment back bitch." Catherine threats.

Now is the prefect time for me to remind them of my presence. They have reach the breaking point, the situation is about to get out of hand. "Let's calm down now." I say with enough firmness to get through their anger. They don't comply and keep on looking at each other with ferocity. "Ladies get back to your corners, now." I repeat myself. And though the tension is still there they do as they told.

Obviously it's too early to let them on their own device. Well let's try something else. "You don't like each other for different reasons and for the same reasons you're having troubles at communicating with one another…" I start but they don't give me the chance to finish.

"Wow, I think you've just opened my eyes. I mean you've just stated something we didn't know, that's just… wow." Catherine says in mock awe.

"She's right, you've just proved us that your ten years of studying human psychology weren't a waste, that was a freaking brilliant statement." Sara adds.

There it is again, their weird connection. They can't stand each other, most of the time they're fighting with passion. Yet they can go from ready to strangle one another to joking and working together the next second. Like I said two sharp minds working as one.

They are involved in a really complicated and contradictory relationship. I've underestimated the complexity of it all. And that was a big mistake coming from me. So I think another approach of it all is in order.

"Have you ever apologise to one another?" I ask them, they don't answer but I know the meaning of their silence, it means no. "When you fight with someone whether the fight is right or not at some point or another you apologise or at least try to make things right with the other person. In your case you never made the effort to change this relationship or sorting the issues out. You fight then you move on, you fight again and move on again. The problem is that since you never make things right you don't really move on, you're making circles."

I pause and watch them taking my words in. "Your relationship is based on bitterness and every new fight is a new excuse to let this resent pour. We have to get rid of all this resent and for that we're going to fix and sort every issue you've ever had with each other."

I get up and get a new glass of milk. I sit down again, they don't seem to be up for initiating the conversation so I decide to take the lead. "I want you to think and tell me when, according to you, everything went wrong."

"On the first minute we met." Sara says after a moment. Against all odds she's the first to speak. "The first thing she said to me was a lie."

"Tell me about it." I ask Sara.

"I asked her if she knew where I could find Catherine Willows and she went like 'Uh… she's out on the field'. Had I been more gullible I would have gone and she would have laughed at me."

"Catherine why did you lie?"

"I had reasons not to welcome her. She was here to investigate Warrick who happens to be one of my closest friends, she was an intruder in my team and I thought she was here to take my case. And if nothing her presence meant the possible end of my team."

"Your team?" I enquire.

"Yes, my team, the guys I'd been working with for at least four years, who were like my family." Catherine says firmly.

"What event brought Sara to Vegas?"

"Grissom called her to investigate on Warrick because he had disobeyed an order." She repeats, avoiding my question in the process.

"What happened?" I ask "If she was investigating him it means that whatever mistake he has made was rather heavy in consequence."

"He went to put a bet while he was on call." She finally says evasively. I'm not satisfy at all with her answer and for the first time she's reluctant to give me what I'm asking.

"That's his mistake. What I want to know is the consequence of the said mistake." I elaborate. I'm met with silence as Catherine looks away.

"Holly Gribbs was killed" Sara states harshly. "Warrick was supposed to shadow her, he didn't and unfortunately the perp was on the scene so he shot her." There's evident despise and anger in her voice.

Heavy consequences indeed. I turn to Catherine who's still looking away "Catherine, I'd like you to talk to me about Holly Gribbs." She doesn't look at me "Catherine?"

She looks at me again defiantly. "Joker."

Finally, we've reach a knot. I'm smiling inwardly because that's our first step in the right direction. I turn my attention to Sara, letting Catherine off the hook. "Why did you stay in Vegas once your investigation was over?"

"Grissom offered me a post." Sara shrugs.

"So you dropped everything just like that? I mean you had a life in California, you could have declined the offer." I continue.

"I was in need for change and I was eager to work with Grissom, because I knew it would be a great experience."

Catherine chuckles "Why don't you come out with it and say that you were in love with him and you took that as an opportunity to get closer to him."

Sara looks at Catherine coldly "You don't know anything about me so why don't you just keep it shut?" She keeps on glaring at Catherine "There was and will never be anything between me and Grissom. I admit though that on my third year here I wish there was more so I asked him out he rejected me end of the story." She sighs "Must be a relief for you to know that I never was between him and you."

"Me and Grissom?" Catherine laughs "I hate to break it to you but we're just friends, I'd say he's more like a brother to me than anything. I can't believe all those years you thought I was after him."

"Well I had to find reasons as to why you hate me." Sara comes back.

"I don't hate you. Sure I'm not a big fan of you, but I don't hate you." Catherine states calmly.

"Well, you've been fooling me for the last six years." Sara says flatly.

There's a certain frustration oozing from the both of them as if they were regretting the actual state of there relationship. I think that it's the first time they're talking about those things. Well at least they've listened each other.

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	5. Chapter 5

**Hey everyone, first thank you for your reviews you're the best. After a short break in the beautiful city of Barcelona, I had unfortunately a lot of work to do (yeah life sucks) anyway I'm back with an update and I'm sorry for the delay. **

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Chapter 5

It's been three weeks already, that I've been on Catherine and Sara's relational issues. I can't say that we have moved a lot, as a matter of fact we've bumped into so many walls that we're stuck. They don't work with each other during our session, they work against each other, when one is co-operative the other is silent, they always use any excuse to let their bitterness for each other pour. Worse they have this game going on 'who will hurt the other the most?'. On the rare occasion they decide to make an effort there's always a moment where everything goes wrong.

You're probably wondering what I'm doing? Well, I listen, I observe, I take notes and keep a record of all the topics they avoid or those they always come back to. So far I've been learning about them, I need to know who I'm dealing with, if I want to do a good job.

The positive point here is that there's getting more and more comfortable with me, so they actually listen to me.

Catherine and Sara arrived just five minutes ago, and since then there's been nothing but silence. I opt for an exercise since they don't seem in the mood to talk. "I want you to describe the other with one word, then I want you to explain me your choice of word," I say bringing their attention to me.

"Sara is…stubborn," Catherine says after a moment. "Once she has an idea in mind she won't let it go or listen to what you have to say. That goes for people as well, once she has settled a judgement on you she won't change her mind."

I look at Sara who doesn't show any reaction at Catherine words. She looks at me and starts to speak.

"Catherine is…" Sara trails off, then she sighs "I don't know."

"Take your time, but I want you to do this." I tell her.

"Catherine is… a mother," Sara says in defeat. "For obvious reasons. And because somewhere she's always having everyone's back when they screw up… well minus mine."

"Ok, that's good. Catherine it's your turn again." I continue.

"Sara is…uncommunicative."

"Just because I don't expose my sex life to the world and keep my life private doesn't mean I'm uncommunicative," Sara snaps. I look at my watch, two minutes and forty seconds before getting on each other's throat. Well, we have a new record. Maybe one day we'll make it to the three minutes.

"What life Sara?" Catherine comes back.

"Catherine is presumptuous. You think you know me when you don't, and just because you're a mother you think that no one has troubles or a life except you."

"I know the boys have a life and I know you don't." Catherine stands her ground.

"Just because I don't clue you in my whereabouts doesn't mean I don't have a life, it just mean that you're not a part of it."

"Oh, please you live at the lab. You work 24/7, you're working overtime most of the time because you don't have any life! You're pathetic Sara," Catherine replies

"You're overconfident," Sara says changing effectively the subject. "Whatever queen Catherine wants, queen Catherine gets."

"You're emotionless as a matter of fact I think that a dead fish is more sensitive than you'll ever be."

As usual when they start to get lost in the heat of their arguments they get up from the couch and face each other like boxers, ready for the next round.

"You use your sexuality to get what you want!"

"So that's it, uh? It's your nuclear weapon? When you don't have anything more to say you just get my sexuality out of your hat hoping you'll get to me?" Catherine says with despise.

"I'm just stating the truth. Paul Newsome, Howard Delhomme, Chris Bezich, Andrew Melton, Adam Novak, so many men involve into crime and at least half of them have been in your bed. What a shock! You know, I'm wondering when you will actually get down on a suspect to get a confession, although I have to admit that Delhomme was a close one. Guess being a stripper gave you bad habits…"

Before Sara realises it Catherine slaps her hard. I have to say that even I hadn't seen that one coming I get up from my seat and get closer to them to calm the game. But Sara talks again. "What? Truth hurts Kitty Cat?" she asks with defiance this time Catherine slaps her once more but doesn't stop. Sara doesn't even respond or try to stop her. She just watches Catherine with utter despise, as if she was letting her rage boil inside before fighting back.

"Stop that!! Stop, that's enough!" I shout restraining Catherine physically. "Don't you ever do that again! Do you get me?!" I shout at Catherine. She gets out of my grip but holds herself back from attacking Sara again.

"And letting her insulting me?!" Catherine spits.

"Violence is the language of idiots, I don't care what she says, you never answer with physical violence!" I reply. Catherine defies me with her stare but I stare right back. She sighs resigned.

I turn to Sara who is still. She hasn't moved from an inch, anger is literally radiating from he, her right hand is balled in a tight fist and her breathing is shallow. Her look is dark and her jaw is clenched hard, there's an angry red mark on her cheek and some scratches. She's like a ticking bomb ready to explode at any minute, the more scary in all this is that all this silent and cold rage is directed at Catherine right now "Sara get out of here," I say harshly to the brunette. She doesn't move or look at me, her stare is still glued on Catherine.

I put myself in front of Sara, effectively breaking her visual contact with Catherine and invading her personal space. Her attention gets to me and I can't see a rage burning in her eyes, her look is deep and dark. "Step. Back," she says through clenched teeth.

I raise my chin a bit "Go ahead if you think it'll make you feel better," I tell her with defiance looking at her straight in her eyes.

It takes ten long seconds but my words register and her look change. There's still rage but there's also a bit of fear and disgust in her eyes. "Get out Sara," I repeat calmly.

She takes a step back and shake her head a bit and with that she leaves. I watch her exiting my office. I turn to Catherine and I barely open my mouth to speak when we hear three loud thumps from the corridor. I rush in just to see Sara's retreating figure. I get back in my office where Catherine is pouting and pacing.

"I meant what I said earlier, you ever do something like that in my office and I'll become your worst problem." I tell her firmly.

"So if I do it outside it's ok," she smirks.

"What you do outside you is your business, you'll have your conscience to deal with it. What's going on in my office is my business, I'm not kidding here Catherine."

"You know what? Fuck you Doc. All this mess is happening because of you, Sara and I were fine before doing all of your stupid exercises!"

"I'm not the one who hit Sara, so if there's anyone to blame here it's not me," I state calmly "You and Sara were fine before we started all this uh? Sure, this little display of anger was just due to tiredness, and those last three weeks surely showed that you and Sara didn't have any issues," I say sarcastically. "Catherine, this is all about putting your head out of the sand, taking your responsibilities, you know… being an adult. So my first suggestion would be for you to start acting like one."

She looks at me with fire and if look could kill I'd be a dead man. My words have hurt her, only adding oil to the fire. "I'll see you tomorrow," I tell her before retreating to window. Two minutes later the door is slammed shut violently.

I didn't see anything coming. Sure during those three weeks they have been pushing each other's buttons but all their anger was contained. Always. At some point they would stop talking and just stare at each other like two raging bulls. But today was different. Sara has hurt Catherine, her words have hit the blonde to the core.

Catherine is more explosive, when something bothers her or when she's angry she doesn't bother hiding it, she attacks first, establishing her authority doing so. Catherine is more like fire, Sara is the complete opposite. Sara is really intriguing me. She puts all her energy in keeping her cool no matter what. Most of the time she won't get into the conflict but today she blew all this. As a general rule she'll get aggressive with her words but not on her attitude except maybe when she really feels trapped, but she always keeps her cool, she's like ice.

Ice and fire, different yet the same.

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	6. Chapter 6

**Howdy everyone, well thank you for your reviews you are the best! I'm back with an update.**

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**So ;)**

**ps: **scuby** thank you for arguing with me and guiding me through it all ;)**

Max** thank you for giving me your opinion, it helps me ;)**

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**Chapter 6**

_Sara's POV_

I'm reading a case file as my interview with the suspect just ended. He was a tough shell to crack but finally we're moving on. Brass just took the suspect away but I'm still sitting in the interrogation room. I hear the door being opened and shut, thinking that it's Brass coming back I don't lift my head up. After thirty seconds of silence I know something's off. When I look up I have to hold myself back from cursing. Catherine is leaning, cross armed against the closed door.

Just what I needed to enlighten my day…

I stare at her briefly, before returning to my reading. "May I help you?" I eventually ask with a flat tone.

"Actually you can, you have something for me."

"Do I?" I look at her again, fairly certain that I don't have any result for her. Maybe my case happens to be related to hers, which I don't wish because I was happy to have a breather from her presence.

"Yes, you do."

I keep reading waiting for her to tell me what she wants, but she doesn't seem prompt to talk. I look at her and sigh. "Well, then?" I enquire.

"You know exactly what I want," she states. There are a few things about Catherine that I have a hard time with, one of them is when she beats around the bush and plays riddles.

"No, I don't obviously. So humour me and tell me what is it that I supposedly have for you?"

"An apology," she finally speaks.

I snort. "Really?"

"Yes, really. Now apologize and I'll let you leave," she orders.

"What am I supposed apologizing for?"

"What for?"

"Yes Catherine, what for. Is there a reason behind that apology or is it just your twisted little ego that needs a pet stroke?" I reply sharply, feeling the already thin layer of patience I had wearing off fast.

"Have you already lost count of the things you _need_ to apologize for at this point?"

"I guess you'll have to enlighten me because last time I check I didn't owe you shit," I stand up from my chair.

"Yesterday," she replies on the edge.

Our session was colourful to say the least.

"What about it?"

She narrows her eyes. "Quit playing your fucking games Sara."

"Is this your way to apologize?"

"Me apologizing? Are you fucking delusional?" she loses her patience and I smirk. I came to like pushing her buttons. "_You_ owe me an apology."

"No I don't."

She puts her hand up in a choking motion and growls. "Fucking apologize for calling me a slut."

"Apologize for hitting me," I come back.

"You deserved it."

"I deserved to be hit?"

"After what you said, yes."

"So I stated facts that you didn't like to hear and that earned me a slap? How old are you? Five?" I ask with despise.

"You called me a whore."

"I never used that word. I said that you used your sexuality and I do think so."

"Don't you twist this around now."

"It's funny you know, because you can go around running your mouth and hurt people with your words, never giving a fuck about it and never apologizing, now when the shoe is on the other foot, I'm supposed to bow and apologize?" I snort. "You know what, I'll apologize when you start being truly civil and respectful with me."

"Excuse me?"

"Do I stutter? You know they say mind is the first thing to go, obviously you're losing your hearing first."

Once again she narrows her eyes. She uncrosses her arms and drops her hands to her side.

"Now, not that I'm getting bored but I'd like to finish my report before going home," I state. She blocks my way out though. She's stiffened and clenches and releases her fists repeatedly.

She steps closer to me to me. "Apologize," she orders.

I'm staring at her and I feel adrenaline rushing through me. I can feel the aggression coming, unlike yesterday I can feel anger radiate from her and ready to explode.

"I'm warning you the first hit was free. I'd advise you not to pull that off again," I warn her firmly.

"Excuse me?"

"Don't hit me again," I elaborate.

"Me hitting you should be the least of your worries."

"Oh yeah? What are you going to do now?"

"Don't push Sara …just apologize."

"No. I won't mean it."

"Oh yes you will," she affirms taking another step toward me.

She's invading my personal space, my defences spike up immediately. "No, I won't" I repeat.

She steps forward again until we're almost touching. She pokes me in the chest. "Apologize."

Bad move.

"Step back," I say through my teeth.

"No…apologize," she pokes me again.

My breathing is shallow and I feel the darker side of me going up the surface. I use all my self control not to lose it..

"Again…step back."

"No," she pokes again. "Apologize."

Second warning and she's still pushing, only I know the little restrain I had just flew out the window. "Don't you do that again," I dare her

"What? This?" she pokes me.

I push her violently and she stumbles backwards, if it wasn't for the table she'd be on the ground. "I warned you," I say in a controlled voice.

She smirks, amused to have finally a reaction from me. I'm sure that she's happy, and feel superior because I lost at her little game. I wish she could see though, that she's playing with fire and that she should stop now.

"Oh did I touch a nerve?" she comes back in front of me and pokes me again. "Now what? You're going to hit me harder?"

"Step. Back."

She moves even closer and poke me "Or what?"

I back her until she hits the wall, my fist is raised and ready to crash in her face. I have one second of clarity before letting my impulses and yearning to hurt take the best of me. I start beating the wall mere inches from her face, letting some of the pressure run free. I raise my fist again, and stare at her. She didn't flinch. Her breathing is heavy but controlled.

"You forget I was married to Eddie fucking Willows…you're going to have to do better than that if you want to scare me," she says.

I step back knowing that the crisis isn't over. My fists are tightly balled, the pressure I apply on my jaw is painful, my breathing is irregular, there's a burn in my chest and I know I need to hit something again.

"Is that the best you got?" she taunts me.

"Don't," I point my finger at her as she's stepping forward again, pushing herself from the wall.

"Don't what? Poke you? How about," she pushes me "I push you instead?"

"I'm fucking warning you!"

"Oooh… warning me...am I supposed to be scared now?" she's provoking me. "You want to play tough? Well news flash, you're not up to the level. Eddie scared me but you my friend, are not even on my radar yet."

"Stop pushing me…" I growl.

"Apologize, before I make you feel sorry," she pushes me again and this was the one time too many. Something shifts in me and the instinct dominating me now is cold but just as explosive.

I pin her back against the wall. "You haven't scratched the surface on what I can fucking do to you….Eddie….was just a bad dream compared to how bad I could fuck you up if I put my mind to it," my voice is emotionless.

She's keeping a straight face, I see a flash in her eyes showing fear she's trying hard to repress.

"The only reason, I'm hitting a wall is because you're not worth it."

I tighten my grip on her arm until I see her jaw clench, then I let go of her.

"What's going here?"

I turn around and see Brass at the door, looking at us with question.

"Nothing," I simply answer before passing him by and exit the room.

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**Thanks for reading.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Happy New Year! I know I've taken a long, long time to update this story, but Mojo was pig headed. I made a long chap and I hope it'll make it up for the long wait. Thank you for your reviews you are awesome.**

**Many of you ask me if it's only about angst and dislike...of course not, there will be love folks, but you need to have faith in me, as always I have a plan. Everything will happen at the right time, just be patient and have faith in me :)**

**Enjoy,**

**So ;)**

**ps: **scuby**, thank you for arguing with me, I wouldn't make it through without your help.**

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**Chapter 7**

Two moody women are sitting in front of me. If I've thought that there was a lot of tension before, I'm at lost to describe the atmosphere right now.

"How's your hand Sara?" I ask noticing that the swelling is fresh, too fresh to be a result from our last session two days ago.

Sara looks at me with despise, but I don't care, I'm not here to be loved. "Fine, thank you. Cheek burns a little though," she says sarcastically. Catherine is somewhat fidgeting, I take it now that she has slept on it, she's not proud of what she's done. That or whatever happened during those two days is making her uncomfortable. But her discomfort is quickly replaced by anger.

"As I said to Catherine after you left, what happened two days ago was the first and the last time. So here's the fifth golden rule: no physical violence toward each other. Do I make myself clear?"

They mumble their assent, I content myself with that knowing that I won't get anything better. "It's been three weeks since we have started this therapy, so far I've been listening to you, observing your interaction. Now we're going to do it my way. Your biggest problem, is that you never listen to the other. For those last three weeks you've been having a dialogue of the deaf. From now on, you'll be expressing your feelings or issues with honesty and we're going to discuss them. So you're going to hold both of your temper and take everything in and think about what's being said."

I take time to watch them, they're still pouting. And I don't know whether they've been paying any attention to what I've said.

"So, anything happened during the last two days you want to talk about?" I ask.

They both look in different direction, Catherine is twisting her hands and Sara has a frown, she's clenching her jaw. They silently confirm my suspicions that something did happen. I look at Catherine, knowing that Sara, will be her usual detached self. As I predicted she reacts to my focus.

"Nothing happened…Nothing to talk about," she shrugs.

"Sara?" I call her and she just shrugs. So they agree on not talking about it, I suppose we'll come back to that later.

I let them be silent for a while, just in case they'd volunteer information or topics they want to tackle, but eventually decide on making an exercise.

"Sara, name me one thing Catherine did that got you pissed." I ask.

Sara looks at the ceiling "The Delhomme case, it was a high profile case, once again she pulls the senior and experience card, she added a nice bat of her eyelash and took it over Nick and me."

"He only wanted to talk to me." Catherine states.

"He was hitting on you, you know it. He was looking at you like a piece of meat, and didn't take a genius that he wanted more from you than just an interview. The guy was a pervert and you actually went with it."

"Sara, all I wanted was to find Julie Waters, Howard Delhomme wanted me, so be it, it helped us to solve the case."

"So if he had wanted to see you naked you would have done it?" Sara accused her.

"Sometime you're so damn focused on your career that you lost the main interest at stake! We're here to do our job, to find answer, no matter what it takes!" Catherine says angry.

"So what? Next time you'll give the suspect a blow job for him to speak faster, is that it?" Sara snorts.

I feel Catherine about to explode but she takes a deep breath and makes fists in order to keep her self control.

"You know it's funny to hear that coming from the woman who's ready to be a bait for a serial rapist and killer," Catherine finally says.

"It's not the same!" Sara protest.

"Oh yeah tell me the difference. You looked like the victims and he could have got you, you were willingly playing with him, just like I played the game of Howard. Sara wake up you're not any better than I am the only thing that got you pissed is because I took that case from you."

Sara doesn't answer anything and stares at nothing.

"It's all about ambition with you. You only see the benefit for your career. Those cases are just opportunities," Catherine says.

Sara snorts and I expect her to reply something harsher but instead she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath "This one was an opportunity, I concede you that, but I resent this remark for the others," she states calmly looking at Catherine straight in the eyes.

Wow, this is our first step out of the argument cycle. A baby step forward, I would be lying if I told you that I had expected it – at least now and coming from Sara, but then again when it comes to those two, nothing seems to follow a logical pattern.

Catherine is at lost for words, I guess she was also getting ready for a new bitter remark.

Well it's the first conversation they had without a fight. The world is full of surprises I guess. I decide to push my luck and change the topic. "Catherine, name me something Sara did that got you pissed."

"She didn't solve Eddie's case," she states after a moment.

"Eddie?" I ask.

"My ex husband. He has been killed."

"Sara?"

"Joker," Sara states looking at me with anger.

"Alright. Okay let's answer another question. Catherine, you called Sara an alcoholic the other day, why?"

I've hit a nerve with Sara, and I know that right now she wants to get out of here, for the first time ever she shows signs of nervousness.

"She's been caught on a DUI." Catherine says flatly.

"Sara, do you have anything to say?" I ask the brunette again.

"Joker," she spits.

Ok, so seems like I've cut the bridges of communication with Sara for this session. My guess is that she won't say a word until the end of the session which will occur in 30 minutes.

"Ok, well I remind you that you've used all your jokers for this session." I state.

"Just because she won't talk about it, doesn't mean I can't talk about it right?" Catherine asks after a minute of silence. "I mean the joker, is only for her, it doesn't apply to me, right?"

"Right," I agree.

Here we are step one: find a way to push the other's buttons.

"Well, I want to talk about her alcohol problem, and I don't care if she's ready to face it or not. I'd like to talk about how _I_ feel."

"I'm listening," I assure her. "How do you feel?"

She smirks. "I feel disappointed," she feigns sincerity.

"Oh my god, I've disappointed the great Willows…I feel like my life was crumbling down," Sara says in a fake dramatic way.

"I think, that her problem, affects more than just her, I mean obviously it's not healthy, but she doesn't seem to care enough about us – her team mate, not to show up at work drunk. And that's a problem because she puts everything at risks, going from the evidences, passing by the cases to our lives," Catherine continues, ignoring Sara. "It's hard to feel completely at ease with my co-workers and their competency when they put themselves in situation that can be used against us later on by smarmy defence attorneys."

Sara laughs humourlessly. "Sara?" I call her.

"I'm sorry…it's hard to have her lecturing me about ethic when of all people…" she trails off. "Nevermind."

"When what? Go on and finish your thought. When I was a stripper? When I use my sexuality to get what I want? Go on and say it," Catherine dares her. "What I did _before_ I was a CSI has no bearing on my credibility, as a matter of fact I never put my credibility at risk, unlike some people."

"Who's playing the victim now?" Sara asks with a satisfied smile, she knows that she beat Catherine to her own game.

"I'm not playing the victim," Catherine protests. "…And why am I talking to you anyway…you don't want to discuss this."

"Sara, finish your thought," I decide that now is a good time to avoid counter productivity.

"I was saying that it's funny to hear her giving me a lecture about ethic when she compromised a case testing her own DNA. So tell me Cath, you sleep well at night knowing that thanks to you a murderer is outside?"

"That murderer is my father…how the fuck do you think I sleep?" Catherine snaps.

"Pretty fine from what I can see," Sara pushes further.

Catherine clenches her jaw, and I can feel a barb coming. "At least I acknowledge my 'daddy issues'…are yours what turned you into a drunk?"

"I'm not a drunk."

"Really, because based on what I saw yesterday, I'd say you're a drunken bully and there's no telling what you would have done if Jim hadn't walked in…"

"My name is Adam," I state.

"Okay, Adam. I'm Catherine and this is Sara, what's your point?" Catherine asks.

"You said, 'there's no telling what you would have done if Jim hadn't walked in', and I recall what you said earlier, nothing happened since our last session two days ago."

"I…I misspoke…" she replies immediately.

"We were three in this room…so is Jim your imaginary friend?"

"Again, I misspoke, just drop it."

"Sara, what happened yesterday?"

Before Sara even decides whether or not to speak, Catherine interrupts "Joker! This topic is off limits for the both of us."

"If you use your joker, you're allowed not to talk about it, but I'm afraid it doesn't apply for Sara, you can't use your joker for Sara."

"You never said that, you're just making rules as you go. You never said we couldn't use our jokers for one another."

"You just can't bind Sara's freedom of speech as you will. How do you know she doesn't want to talk about yesterday?" I ask Catherine as she's trying hard to find a way to avoid my rules.

"I hit a wall," Sara speaks which bring both Catherine's and I attention to her.

"Sara, don't…he can't change the rules whenever he want and expect us to be willing pawns in his little game."

"But you can, right?" Sara counters.

"What?"

"He didn't change the rules, your little game just backfired at you and now you're trying to find a way out, but tough luck he won't let you get away with it."

"Excuse me? I'm trying to protect you here, and you're turning it around on me?"

"Protect me? From what? Two seconds ago I was a drunk and bully you despised and now you're trying to protect me.... if that's how you have my back I feel deeply screwed…"

"Sara, why did you hit a wall yesterday?" I try to have their attention again.

"I do not want to talk about this," Sara says firmly. "I'm just trying to make a point here."

"And what point is that?" I ask.

"That she better stop playing her games because I won't play along and she'll always lose with me."

Catherine is obviously pissed off but doesn't say anything.

"I'm not playing any games Sara. I do feel endangered with your drinking problem," Catherine states

"I never endanger the case or any of you," Sara replies between her teeth.

"Yes you do, when you're drunk, your judgement, your reflexes are hindered."

"I'm not a drunk and I don't have a drinking problem."

"That's why you've been caught on a DUI, because you don't have a drinking problem…you know, you seem to have a lot to say for someone who doesn't want to talk about it."

Step two: putting the other in a corner until there's no choice but to fight back. That's where I come in, providing an exit or supervise the fight.

Sara snorts and looks away. "If you want to talk about it after all you're allowed to take your joker back," I offer.

"No thank you, Catherine seems prepared to do enough talking for the two of us."

As always Sara refuses to give what Catherine obviously wants. And as always Catherine is going to keep pushing.

"See? We're wasting our time here, you're never making any effort whatsoever," Catherine sighs in exasperation.

"I'm not wasting anything…I'm sitting here listening to you talking about shit you have no clue about."

"How about actually setting the record straight then, rather than play the victim every time?"

There we are, she pushed the right button, now Sara is about to react. This time I'm ready to step between us at any moment.

"I'm going to accept your offer and take my joker back doc," Sara says without glancing at me. "You want me to set the record straight? Fine…then first off you should know that I was never charged with a DUI, and then I'd like to know how you'd know about it since it has been handled off record. Uh? So how about cutting your BS for once and speak the truth?"

"I…" Catherine trails off and looks away obviously struggling. It would seem that she hadn't planed Sara's reaction as well as she thought.

"Well?" Sara prompts a bit on the edge. "To play your little game you're the best but when it comes to actually being honest you're not around."

Catherine starts to fidget on her spot, like she had flame licking her behind.

"Again, I'm asking, how do you know all this?...Oh wait, I know…Of course, now that you're hanging with that excuse for a man that is Ecklie, you must have learned out to dig into people's life to better crush them, right?"

"I'm nothing like him okay?"

"Then answer me, how the fuck do you know about this?"

"Because I answered the fucking call, alright!" Catherine snaps.

Sara looks like she had just received a punch in the stomach. She starts to shake her head. "No…no, no, no, they called my supervisor…and Grissom came to pick me up…"

"Grissom wasn't at the lab that day…I was…" Catherine adds.

"They asked me for Grissom's cell phone and that's the number they called…this doesn't make any sense, why would you answer Grissom's cell phone?"

Catherine closes her eyes and pinches the bridge of her nose, realizing that she'll have to release much more information than she had intended.

"Shift was long over…" Sara's jaw drops and she closes her eyes. "You and Gil…I mean…I'm running out of reason for you to actually answer his cell."

"Oh please, I know you think I'm a slut who fucks around with every male she sees, but Gil? Hell freaking no!" Catherine shivers. "He's like my brother, we never did and never will, even if lives depended on it."

"How did you end up answering his phone?"

"Does it matter?" Catherine tries to back-pedal but it's obviously too late for that now.

"Stop playing around, and tell the truth!"

"He was on a date…alright?"

"That still doesn't explain why you answered his cell…"

"Because…" Catherine's voice is louder but she stops herself and takes a deep breath. "Lord, I wish I didn't have to think about that night again…" she mumbles to herself. "Because, it was her 'instructions'…he had a date with Heather and knowing him, she requested that he left his cell phone to someone he'd trust – being his oldest friend the choice was easy, and he was to give me a number where I and I only could join him in case of real emergency…there you have it," she sighs.

"A date with Heather?" Sara repeats lost. "I still don't…"

"How many Heather do we know in common?" Catherine cuts her.

There's a moment of silent, Sara frowns at the question, then suddenly she has a moment of recoil. "Oh please somebody burn those images from my brain…my goodness…I need a shower…"

"I know the feeling trust me…it took me a month to completely overcome it."

They both relax, and the tension that was there barely two seconds ago changes into that weird complicity they share.

"I can't believe it…" Sara says with a chuckle.

"Well, trust me it's true."

I'll confess that I'm a little lost as to why the thought of my friend on a date is so unsettling, but Sara and Catherine share some jokes they are the only one to understand. I watch them interact for another minute before putting them back on track.

"Catherine, if you answered the call, why not going to pick Sara up?"

I can say without the shadow of a doubt that I've just put my finger on a sensitive spot for their smiles fade away instantly and an awkward tension settles instead. Sara who had relaxed considerably, tenses up again – dressing up the proverbial walls around her again.

"She probably had better to do, than wasting her time for me," Sara says bitterly.

"Here we go again for the self flagellation," Catherine sighs but doesn't answer the question.

"You know I've always wondered why you could be so protective and available for the other, but so cold and distant when it came to me…I mean, it's like no matter what I do, I never seem to be able to be worth your time or protectiveness."

"It's not true Sara…it's not…" Catherine changes her position on the couch. "What about you Sara? How come you've never been able to see me as anything other than a cold bitch when it came to you?"

"It's not like you gave me a lot of reason to think otherwise…" Sara simply answers.

Catherine snorts and shakes her head, apparently hurt. "I care, much more than you think. I wanted to come that night, but then I thought that having someone who cared wasn't enough, that having someone who cared and who you trust was better…so I called Grissom…because I thought it was the best thing to do," she sighs. "I know that I have my part of responsibility for the relationship we have today, but it takes two to tango, and it'd be nice that you finally admit that we both made mistakes," Sara doesn't answer. "For what it's worth, I still regret not to have come that day."

"You should have…" Sara finally says in a whisper.

They look at each other, vulnerable and ill at ease, then they look away, not ready to use to be so close from one another. Obviously , something just changed, they finally took a step forward.

Sara takes a deep breath and leans in, putting her elbows on her thighs. "We were out celebrating Nick's promotion. We didn't drink to excess, and then we part to go home. Well I went home, while they were going to have a little more fun. It was a random control, but it turned out that I was over the limit – limit which had just been lowered."

Catherine just listens silently.

"Then, one day we had had a long draining shift, I was out with my friend and I had had a beer – well half of it, cause I was called back in to the scene, so I used cough drop to cover the alcohol breath, not smooth but I didn't have better," Sara finishes her confession. "I am not a drunk though, I don't have any drinking problem. I'd never show up drunk at work, I'm not stupid damn it! And you should know better," her tone is accusing.

"Just like you should know better than calling me a whore," Catherine states calmly.

So that's what it all comes down to. I have to say they definitely know how to hurt one another, and when they finally decide to be open with each other, it's more painful than it has to be because they are bitter and not completely ready to let go.

Sara calms down instantly and turns to Catherine. She sighs heavily. "You're right…I'm sorry."

Catherine is more than surprised by Sara words and looks as if to see if she had heard well. Sara just looks away in defeat. "Apology accepted."

"I'm not a drunk, I have issues, but I'm not a drunk, you have to believe that," Sara adds after a minute or two of silence.

Catherine nods. "I do…I believe you."

I lean back into my seat, we have finally made real progress. I do realise that there are questions unanswered still and that the session of today was only a baby step, but my motto is that a step is a step, it's not how wide it is that matters but in what direction. And today I can positively say that we moved forward.

* * *

**Again, Happy New Year 2009, I wish you all the best, health and love on top of it. Hope everything you wish for will come true. Cheers everyone!**

**Bonne Année et Meilleurs Voeux 2009!**

**Thank you for reading**


	8. Chapter 8

**Hey there, I know I'm taking time with this story, but it's only because I want to make it right. So I hope you'll forgive me.**

**Ok, I know it has nothing to do witht the story, but **Nico79**, if you read me, I don't know where you went, and I can only hope things are ok. I was bumped to see your stories deleted as well as your profile. Hope you'll come back soon, cause I like your work a lot. I miss it :(.**

**Anyway, back with to the story...**

**Enjoy,**

**So ;)**

**ps: **scuby** thanks for fighting with me.**

**

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**Chapter 8**

_Catherine's pov_

I wake up and stir, my mind a bit numb for the alcohol I consumed earlier. I yawn and stretch out as I try to replace the unfamiliar room I'm in. Recognition finally sets in and I step out of the bed before slowly and sleepily making my way out of it. My steps are a bit heavy as I make my way to the living room, rubbing my eyes in a child like manner.

I find a dishevelled Sara seating Indian style on the couch holding a bowl of cereals, eating them with a spoon that she holds in a childish way. She's wearing a sweat pants and a gigantic south park t-shirt – as opposed to my black shorts and big Scooby-Doo t-shirt. She genuinely giggles every now and then at the antics of the animated characters on the TV. For a minute I'm thinking that sleep is playing tricks on me but after rubbing my eyes a second time I know I'm not imagining it at all.

"Morning," she says without sparing a glance in my direction before giggling again. I walk to the couch and sit next to her, she doesn't tear her eyes from the screen. She looks like a child stuck in an adult body, it's odd and adorable at the same time.

"I can't believe you're watching Sponge Bob," I mutter.

"It's excellent," she just answers before taking a spoon full of cereal in her mouth. "There's coffee if you want," she states as if she could read my mind.

I stand up and walk to the kitchen side of her apartment, I pour myself a mug of coffee before going back to my spot on the couch.

"Oh I love that episode!" she exclaims like a kid.

I shake my head and chuckle before focusing on the screen myself. In spite of everything I find myself giggling too at the show. If anyone asks me though, I'll deny it ever happened.

"Where's everybody?" I ask her.

"Rick and Nicky got called in, Sofia had a breakfast date and Greggo is still knocked dead in my bed."

I forgot how it all started. Somehow after the first time it happened we decided to make a habit of it. Movie night at one of us and everybody sleeps over. Until last year we used to do it once a month, then the break of the team, Nick's abduction and a lot of different things made those nights lessens. We've had a very bad case this week, a mad car pile up which hid a lot of gruesome surprises. We were so loaded with work that the only times we weren't working were the five hours break we took one after the other so we could sleep a bit before getting back on the game. It was exhausting, beyond exhausting even. Once we found the answers we were looking for, Sara mandated everyone for a sleep over and no one even tried to find reason not to come.

So here I am in her apartment after a night of fun.

"Thanks for last night," I state before taking a sip of my coffee.

"You're more than welcome."

"I missed it," those sleep over are just one of my favorite things to do right after spending a good day with my daughter and family.

"Me too, actually I think everyone did."

"Yeah, definitely."

"You want me to fix you something to eat?"

"Uh-huh," I yawn in confirmation.

She drinks the rest of her milk now that the cereals are gone and then stand up. I stretch and yawn again before dragging myself to her counter and taking place on one of the stools.

"One special coming right up," she announces before getting busy, in the meantime I continue to enjoy my coffee and let my thoughts wander.

"There you go," she says some undetermined time later.

"Thanks," I smile at her. My stomach growls in anticipation. "Yummy, it's been long since I've had your special," I state before taking the first bite and hum in appreciation. Sara just smirks happy to have scored yet again with her culinary skills.

We start to discuss friendly about everything and nothing. It always kind of amazed me how her and I could be so close to another at times and yet so far most of the times. We do have good times when we're not at each other's throats. It's really hard for us to be constant on thus relationship, I suppose she has her reasons just like I have mine. That being said it doesn't keep me from wishing things to be better between us.

"I'm that boring uh?"

I shake my head and focus again. "Sorry," I apologize to her with a chuckle.

"It's ok," she dismisses my apology. "Thinking about this week?"

"No, actually I was thinking about you and I," I tell her.

"Anything interesting?"

"You think we should take a fresh start? Like, erasing whatever happened before and start all over?" I ask her.

She ponders my question for a whole minute before looking at me again. "I don't think so, it'd be a bad idea," she answers honestly. I don't get time to dwell on her answer and its meaning when she adds. "I think that our common past will help us to build something, so it wouldn't be that wise to erase it for a new beginning."

I guess she has a point.

"I still think there should be something we can do on our own. I mean, yeah now I can admit that the therapy thing isn't as bad as I though it'd be but I also think we should work on our relationship outside Adam's office."

I won't deny it that we're making progress with Adam, though we haven't seen him this week, I'm convinced that we shouldn't let this progress lag in between session. After all Adam won't always be there – hopefully.

"How about…tackling our relationship from a different angle?"

"A new approach…"

"Yeah, one where we try to learn from our past mistakes and try to give a little more to one another. Surely we're not a hopeless case," she shrugs.

"Not yet," I chuckle.

"That's settled then," I extend my hand to her. "To a new approach then."

"To a new approach," she shakes my hand in return.

I turn my attention back to my plate and continue to eat.

"Ooh, Kim Possible is on," she says excitedly before inciting me to move back to the couch with her.

We actually have a nice moment watching cartoons – she's right meeting your inner child is one of the easiest ways to unwind, then I go get ready to leave. She lets me have a shower at her place, when I'm all dressed up she in full geek mode watching some scientific show on Discovery.

"Alright I'm going to go then, Lindsey wants me to teach her how to cook…lord, she'll wish she hadn't," I joke and Sara chuckle as she walks me to the door. "Thanks again for the night."

"You're welcome."

"I'll see you tonight."

"I have my day off, but we have some exclusive time with Adam coming I'll see you later anyway."

"Right. Ok, see you later then," I look over her shoulder. "Bye Greg!" he emits a cavernous sound that I take as a farewell back, this kid is definitely not a morning person.

And with that I leave.

xxxxx

"…you're not listening to me!"

"I am Sara , and I already gave you my opinion on the matter…"

"He's lying, can't you see that something is off?...Damn it Catherine! Sometimes it'd be good that…"

"That what? That I don't let my sexuality cloud my judgement? Is that it?..." I cut her.

"…don't put words in my mouth now!..."

"Sara we're not going back just because for some reason…"

"…why is it so hard for you to…"

We scream at the top of our lungs in a lab. I know we used to have heated fight, but somehow they intensified – hard to believe but true, and now every fight is more draining than before.

"…the evidences are telling otherwise…"

"…but he's holding back something!...I know it!..."

"…I was there Sara… there was nothing there the first time we were there....do you think evidence will just magically appear after we processed the scene?"

"…I'm just saying we didn't test it that way and that's probably why we missed it…"

She's pissing me off, she doesn't listen to me, I don't listen to her either, and the more the minutes pass and the more I want to crash my fist into something. She always has this way to get to me deeper than anybody else. Why? Hell if I know.

"So we're running this case based on your hunches and what you think is somewhere is this some new method of forensics you read about in one those journals you always have your face crammed in…"

"…I'm just saying…we might have missed something…"

"You know what…I don't have to listen to you…I'm lead on this case and my decision is final."

"Oh brilliant…that's right lets do probably a mistake because you're too fucking stubborn to actually push the investigation further…"

"That's it sidle, I'm sick of you questioning my every decision, you can't always have the last word…stop being petty about it."

She's about to reply but I cut her off.

"You want to complain be my guess, I said what I had to, I'm done," I turn around and slam the door shut with force as I exit the lab, I can hear her curse even if it's smothered by the door.

I walk with hasty strides toward my office, pissed off beyond belief, people move out of my way, those who had something to ask me just let their words die on their lips to ensure their survival.

oOo

"_...except from those times we do work fine together," Sara finished._

"_I see… Catherine, would you admit that when Sara expresses an opinion, you sometimes take it personally?" Adam asked me with that calm and yet sometimes annoying voice._

"_Most of the time, yes I suppose," I finally answered in a whisper._

"_Why?"_

"_Joker," I replied after debating with myself. I could feel my insecurities bubbling up to the surface but I knew I wasn't ready to let them out just yet._

"_You said once that part of your job is not to rule anything out, can you explain?"_

"_Well... we can't assume anything about what happened at a crime scene or why a crime took place, everything is possible and I do mean everything."_

"_We have to explore every possibility," Sara added and I nodded in agreement._

"_So every option possible and imaginable stays open until the evidences lead you to the right one?"_

"_Yeah, I suppose it's a way to put it."_

"_I agree," Sara said as Adam was staring at her._

"_Then__, next times you have a disagreement on a case adopt a new point of view. Don't think that the other is questioning you, but rather giving you a new option that you didn't think about, since you're supposed not to rule anything out. That's the wonder about working with someone else, they can present you a point of view you probably hadn't thought about…" _

oOo

Arrgh!

Great, his voice is back in my head!

I swear Adam made his way through my brain and now he's worse than my own conscience. At first I could ignore it but now…now it pops up in my mind for no reason and suddenly I find myself debating on whether or not I'm as right as I think I am, or whether or not I'm being as mature as I should be.

There was a time I went on with my emotions, and that was it. If afterwards I felt like I had made the wrong choice I'd then correct the shot eventually. But now, I can't do that anymore. My emotions get the best of me and right away I find myself analyzing and questioning myself. Adam is rubbing off on me and it's really annoying. It's like he was constantly in my mind telling me to temper myself and it's just relentless, I'll hear his voice resounding until I give in.

"… _Don't think that the other is questioning you, but rather giving you a new option that you didn't think about, since you're supposed not to rule anything out…" _

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

I don't want him to be right, because if he's right then I'm wrong and I don't like that.

"…_most of the time, if you just took a deep breath in order to hold your temper back, you could avoid the fight…"_

"Arrgh…damn it! Shut up, shut the hell up!" I mutter angrily and stop on my tracks.

A confused Greg looks at me with apprehension, as I turn around and start to walk back to the lab I left Sara in I hear him softly whispering. "But I haven't said anything…"

I walk feeling even angrier than when I left. I burst into the lab and slam the door once again. Sara immediately squares her shoulders ready for round two, but I speak before she can say anything. "You have three minutes to explain your theory again," I state firmly.

She's looking at me with a frown and I can feel her on the verge of asking me what's going on but once again I cut her off. I glance at my watch. "Two minutes fifty seconds Sidle."

She sighs and starts her explanation all over again, I force myself to stay silent the whole time even though I'm boiling inside.

xxxxx

I sigh heavily as I sit down on the bench of the locker room, facing my locker. As it turned out Sara's hunch was right. We have now new evidences and a new lead.

I feel drained, emotionally drained. I hate the fact that I have to adjust to myself, that now I can't seem to just go on like I've always done.

I exit the locker room and walk to the exit of the building, eager to go home, see Linds and then having a little time for myself. I'm almost at my car in the parking lot when I'm called.

"Catherine."

I sigh and turn around. The only person I wish I didn't have to deal with again today is standing in front of me.

"What? You want to gloat about the fact that you wee right? Or, you want me to actually admit that you were?" I fire my questions with an exasperated tone. "Fine. You were right Sara, and I was wrong. There, happy?"

She takes a deep breath and if I didn't know better I see a hint of disappointment or hurt in her eyes. "Actually, I just wanted to say that, I don't know what made you change your mind today…anyway…thank you…" she blurts out. "Thank you for trusting me enough to give a shot on my hunch. I know, it was a long shot, but…well…thank you."

"Oh."

My remaining anger leaves me instantly to let place to deep and intense tiredness. Dealing with Sara starts to take much more energy from me than it used to.

"You're welcome," I reply quickly.

We stare at each other, and for the first time we don't really know where to go from here.

"You...uh…want to go have a breakfast?" she asks.

I sigh. "Listen, don't take it the wrong way, but I really need distance from you…I mean…we…" I go back and forth between the two of us with my hand. "…and today…I mean…" I struggle but I think she understands what I'm saying.

She chuckles. "I know…don't worry," she smiles.

We spend most of our time together, it's not bad, but on days like this, I want nothing more but distance because I feel depleted and vulnerable. I've been giving her a little more from me with our therapy, but I'm not ready to be completely naked.

"Rain check?" I offer.

"Sure."

"Cool…I'll see you next shift then," I say before opening the door of my car and getting in.

"Yeah, be careful on the road."

I smile at her weakly in response and close my door. I watch her walk to her bike, putting her helmet on and making it roar before drowning in the horizon line.

I take a beep breath and turn on the ignition.

I suppose that I did something right today. Somehow I have yet to feel the satisfaction washing through me.

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**Thanks for reading**


	9. Chapter 9

**Hi everybody, I am back! I apologize for the looooonnnng delay. I took quite a long break, but there were exams at the University, then work, life…bla bla bla…and Mojo had escaped yet again anyway, so I took a break. Now that, that little sparkle and me are getting along again, I can see my flight path clearly again. Anyway..;**

**This one goes out to **Nico79**, I've missed you around, and I'm ecstatic you're back. I wish you the best, this is my 'welcome back' gift – I like to do things properly. ;)**

**Enjoy,**

**So ;)**

**Ps: **scuby** thank you, for always helping me to see the light and fight with me. ;)**

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Chapter 9

"Grrr…I hate when you do that!" Sara exclaims slightly on the edge. I decide that this is my cue to stand in between them.

"Alright, I'll be right back," I announce to Sara and Catherine and stand up.

Today they didn't argue at all but they're not really open either. I can feel the tension, yet they are holding it back, which is another sign of progress.

I leave my office to go to what I use as a storage room and come back pushing a training mannequin in the middle of the room. I go back to the storage room and when I come back in I have kickboxing gloves in my hands.

"Ladies, I want you to meet Bogus."

They look at me in a jaded way.

"Bogus…is there to help you to let go," I hand them the gloves. "There you go…they are clean, I promise."

They reluctantly take it and put them on. They sigh and stand up. "This exercise is called 'I'm angry because'," I state. "You're going to state something that makes you angry, then I want you to punch Bogus."

They don't show enthusiasm whatsoever – not that I expected any. "On you go then," I encourage them.

Catherine takes a deep breath. "I'm angry because…we're at a stand still with our case," she punches Bogus lightly.

"Sara, it's your turn."

"I'm angry because…I have to be here," another light punch land on Bogus.

"I like your enthusiasm," I state with a smile. "Let's keep on working with this exercise," I add.

They wait for me to guide them, I take a few seconds to collect my thought and explain why I choose this specific exercise. "I want to talk about Holly Gribbs," I break to them, Catherine immediately tenses up. "We've been working together for a few months now, and this case is..."

Suddenly Catherine starts to beat the hell out of Bogus. She hits it so hard I think the protection gloves won't help raw skin on her knuckles. She's grunting as her punches become more and more violent. Sara was stunned at first but she's slowly coming to, she puts a hand on Catherine's shoulder, but Catherine shrugs it away harshly. "Don't touch me," she replies angrily, before landing another mean punch and then throwing her gloves on the ground.

Catherine goes back near the couch and start to pace like a caged animal. I looked at Sara who's trying to control the anger she feels because of Catherine's rejection. Her jaw is tightly clenched and in spite of the gloves I know her fists are hard enough to cut her blood flow. She finally hits bogus with blunt force three times, then she takes a deep breath and takes off her gloves. She puts them on the counter near by before sitting on the couch while Catherine is still pacing.

I guess, I'll have to find a new way to go on the 'Holly Gribbs' field.

I go and sit on my armchair, I wait patiently for Catherine to wear out her frustration. Eventually, she sits down on the couch, obviously not really ready to talk but at least calmer.

"I want to talk about Holly Gribbs," I reiterate my earlier statement. "Tell me what happened."

"She…was fresh out of UNLV, it was her first night on the job, she got killed…" Catherine says obviously not at ease.

"Can you give me details?"

"Why are we talking about this?" Sara asks.

"Because I want to," I dismiss her. "Can you give me details," I ask again, I purposefully look at Catherine as I speak.

"I can give you all the details in the world…I know everything about the case…I investigated Warrick's role in her death…" Sara states, she's obviously frustrated. She doesn't see the point to this conversation, she's angry at what happened and she doesn't understand why we have to dwell on it.

Catherine has a subtle movement of eyebrows as she's doing her best not to snort aloud.

"Technically, you only know what people let you know…right?" I state to Sara. "Catherine, can you give me the details?"

"Wait a minute," Sara speaks again. "I know_ everything_about that case, Cath," she sighs and looks at Catherine "I know you lived it, but I worked it don't forget it's the reason I came to Vegas."

Catherine doesn't react and just looks back at Sara passively. Sara turns to me again. "I practically memorized every affidavit and every report from anyone on duty that night that had any interaction with her so yeah, I know everything about that case..."

I nod silently. Three things make Sara ticks, questioning any aspect of her job, talking about her family, and talking about herself.

"The people I work with, despite sometimes lapses in judgment, are consummate professionals and do their job... I _know_everything there is to know about the Gribbs case…"

For Sara to admit that there is something she doesn't know would mean she didn't do her job thoroughly and this isn't an option for her. Unfortunately sometimes Sara has tunnel vision and misses the emotional or human side of things, not because she's insensitive, but because she based her whole defense mechanism on her ability to keep her emotions to herself. As a result, she tends to elude others' emotions.

"As I said you only know what people let you know, you have second hand information," I answer Sara.

"Watch it Doc you're going to piss her off," Catherine warns me lightly.

Sara snorts and goes on. "If there's something else, it's because someone didn't follow procedure and withheld vital information from me during my investigations if that's the reasoning you're going to use then any fucking investigation we conduct isn't worth a damn because anything that isn't physical evidence is second hand information. I know, statistically, eye-witness accounts are unreliable, but it's the background information, information attesting to an individual's state of mind, a person's routines and habits that help us build a complete picture for a case and all of that is, as you so richly put it, second hand information. Do my fucking job without it and see how far you get," she crosses her leg and her arms on her chest before looking away, effectively protecting herself from me and Catherine.

"Don't say I didn't warn you," Catherine state as Sara is getting angrier by the minute.

"You need to fill the holes Catherine."

Catherine, know she can't avoid the subject, yet she needs a gentle push in order to confront the past. "Tell her what she doesn't know," I encourage Catherine softly.

"What makes you certain there are holes to fill?" Sara asks me harshly. "Catherine wouldn't leave information out of a report or hold back information when someone is running an investigation," she states firmly. "_Everything_ there was to know about that case _was_ in the files... I memorize them _verbatim_! I know everything!" she turns to Catherine.

Catherine stares at me as if to see if I'd give her an exit but I don't, I look back at her calmly to let her know that it's okay.

"Hum…it was an important night because, Nick and Warrick were both one case away from their level 3…so they throw a bet about it, who would become a CSI level 3 first…"

"Is there anything I **don't** know?" Sara asks frustrated. "Because this was in the reports."

"Grissom and Brass were in a playful mood…so...hum…they…decided to have a little fun with Holly," she smiles a bit. "She was, fresh out of the UNLV, she was shy, she lack confidence and she was really impressionable… you know she was the kid who was finally allowed to play in the grown up court, she was lost, out of her element."

She recalls herself of the night and loses herself in her thoughts for a moment before carrying on. "Anyway…so they were in a playful mood, and they decided to…you know…play the 'graveyard' pranks on her. Grissom took her a pint of blood for an experiment he had tried with everybody else on the team but we just laughed at his face, Holly took the bait of course…and Brass sent her to the morgue for an autopsy, to see how long she'd last with a dead body…"

"You make it sound like they were mean… Grissom isn't like that and everyone has to go to their first autopsy, I don't see why hers should be something so special, they were just trying to put her through the pace, nothing more."

"It was their little 'hazing', Sara, nothing bad, just a little fun for them."

"They're not like that! Grissom isn't like that!"

"Yeah…right…because you know him," Catherine rolls her eyes dismissively.

"Oh go to hell…"

I decide to step in not to lose the momentum with Catherine. "Catherine, what makes you think that they 'played' with Holly?"

"Anyone who's in the team for a little time knows to say no to Grissom's experiments, especially when blood's involved, he gets the blood that is left over by the hospital. As for the autopsy… there's a rule in the graveyard, our job can be tough so no dead bodies until at least your tenth case, so you're getting used to things little by little, first, working on the labs and different slam dunk cases, then when you've been around for a little while, autopsy. So yes, when Brass and Grissom give her an autopsy on the first night, just to see how long she'll last with a dead body, yes it is a prank. I'm sorry to burst your bubble Sara but as much as I love those guys, sometimes they act like kids, we all do, because there's nothing bad into having a laugh from time to time."

Sara shakes her head silently, clenching her jaw not to speak.

"Go on, Catherine."

"Once they had their little fun, Grissom put her on the field, a basic robbery. Unfortunately, the old lady who owned the store was upset because the black powder print was messing the counter so…she pointed a gun at Holly. Holly lacking experience and confidence, she didn't handle the situation. I arrive and confiscated the gun of the old lady …"

"Once again this is pretty much all in the records," Sara sighs before turning to me "See? I know it all."

Catherine ignores Sara and keeps on. "She…Holly, she was having a rough night. She needed a break and it was our lunch time anyway, so I took her to a diner," Catherine shrugs.

"Oh so that's what I don't know about?" Sara chuckles. "Somehow I doubt eating food influenced the direction of the case."

"She…started to tell me about her day, about the fact that she was fulfilling her mother's dream; that she didn't think she was fit for this job; that she should quit, that she didn't know how we did it and so on…"she looks up in order to hold back her tears. "I…I told her that I could mother her but wouldn't , that I love that job because for me, what we do is important," she chokes a bit. "I told her that…if after solving her first case, she didn't feel like King Kong on cocaine, then she should quit."

Sara's emotions are rushing to the surface, I can see her anger oozing from her.

"Then she went on a scene, Warrick was supposed to shadow her, but he left to place a bet for the judge who had granted him a warrant, and…"

Catherine is looking away, she's trying to hold herself from crying but she's losing the battle.

"That wasn't mention in your report," Sara finally speaks after a long silence. "You didn't tell me during my investigation, you…this…this changes everything, it changes the way things have been interpreted, it…"

Catherine laughs bitterly. "And you wonder why you're not good with people…You're always so cold…everything is so clinical with you, it's either black or white and you ignore the shade of grey so you don't have to get involve!"

"Excuse me?"

"You're so sure that shoving emotions is a sign of weakness that you…"

"No go on, don't stop there," Sara presses her. She's obviously upset by what she's hearing. "That I'm what?" Sara dares her. "You know what? Fuck you, Catherine…fuck you, I have my reason not to show my emotions. They cloud judgement, and at least I keep my focus on my work."

"Someone's dead and the only thing you care about is the spot on your fucking investigation!"

"I care about Holly! You want me to care about your guilt, but _you_ told her to stay when she wanted to go, you held back that information and it changes everything in the way justice has been made. Maybe she was trying to prove you something, maybe she was trying to feel like 'King Kong on cocaine' and that cost her life!"

"You think I don't know that?!" Catherine shouts sharply as she stands up.

"How do you feel Catherine?" I ask softly.

She snorts. "She…she's dead because of me…I feel great," she replies with unabashed sarcasm.

"Oh please Catherine you didn't pull the trigger!" Sara answers logically.

Catherine shakes her head in a way to tell Sara that she doesn't understand. She's frustrated and emotionally on the edge, yet there's more She's almost reach her breaking point.

The breaking point, this moment of pure vulnerability, no one likes to feel vulnerable. The thing one dread about reaching that point is that, it doesn't just let flow one's emotions about one thing, it all the emotions one keeps safely locked away for reasons that surfaces and take over. Once the breaking point is reach, the defences crumble down and it's a long time before one is able to build the wall up again. Once the breaking point is reached, the proverbial Pandora's box is open, one is cornered with everything they avoid in the past making the feeling of vulnerability linger.

Catherine is on a roll and I'm just making sure I give her the little necessary push to keep her rolling and encourage her let it all out.

Catherine puts her hands in her hair trying to calm down, she looks nervously around her.

"Never regret, never look back, that's my rule…" silent tears are running down her cheeks. "But…there's not a day going by without me wishing to go back to that night and _not_ talking to Holly…not a single day…"

"So you pushed her away," I state.

The connections are now clear as the day. Holly was the new member of the team, Cath let her in. She was welcoming, a little protective even. But the outcome of the day was disastrous to say the least. Catherine feels guilty for her part in all this, for her she did pull the trigger in a certain way. When Sara arrived it was the same scenario repeating, new girl, different parameters. However, Catherine legitimately thought that doing the opposite than what she did with Holly would change the result. Her guilt led her to different choices, a different behaviour, and it kept Sara safe, at least that was her reasoning at first. By the time she realise that things wouldn't turn out the same way Sara and her had already reach the point of no return.

Catherine nods. "I thought…" she sniffs. "I just…got attached to her instantly, and it…hurts so bad…" she's twisting her hands nervously. "I thought that…if I kept her at a distance…then if it happened again, I'll make it through…it wouldn't hurt that much…I wouldn't do the same mistake…"

"Are we still talking about Holly?" Sara asks.

Catherine shakes her head, focusing on her hands. "What does that has to do with me?" Sara is confused, but I can feel the light dawning on her little by little.

"I kept you away…so if anything happened I wouldn't feel so bad…You weren't supposed to stay…I had to protect myself."

"Did it work? Keeping her at distance?" I enquire.

"Like hell it worked…" Catherine chuckles through her tears. "…no" she looks upward again. "But then I figured better a fucked up relationship than another death on my shoulders."

"Hold on, let me get this straight…" Sara finally understands it all.

Catherine pushes the bottom of her palms against her eyes to contain her tears. "Are we done here?" she asks. She's trying to compose herself.

I look at the watch on the wall behind them. "I'm afraid not."

"So you were nice to Holly a few minutes…she dies…" Sara keeps on.

Catherine repeats the same movement with her palms on her eyes then stands up hastily. "I'm out of here," she throws over her shoulder before grabbing her belongings and exiting my office, slamming the door behind her.

"What the…Catherine, hold on!" Sara starts. "Damn it!" she growls, she sends me a dark look. "You shouldn't have let her go," she scolds me. She makes her exits as well and goes after Catherine.

I sigh deeply. We made progress since we did address the Holly Gribbs case, however, they still have to confront each other. The only calming thought is that after all the time we've spent together, they have now some tools to communicate better and understand each other's reaction. I just hope there won't be blood.

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**As I said I can see my flight path again so…next update shouldn't be too far behind.**

**Thanks for reading.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Hey everyone, first thank you very much for your reviews. Then I'm sorry to take a little time in between updates but health is a bit of an issue right now. But I'm doing my best. Anyway here's the update.**

**Enjoy,**

**So ;)**

**ps: **scuby** thank you as always to help me with the arguments. You rock :)**

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**Chapter 10**

_Sara's POV_

I rush out of Adam's office and catch up with Catherine outside. I'm confused, angry, I'm…I don't know, but I want…no, I need answers. It's raining steadily, the sky is grey and unusually the streets are almost empty except for few runners trying to find a shelter.

"Catherine, wait!" I call as I try to match her speedy pace. She ignores me and goes on in the parking lot. When I'm finally at her level I grab her arm and force her to look at me. "Tell me…you were nice to her a few moments, she dies…so you've spend years being a bitch to me…all hoping that…what? That I'd leave or that if I stuck around we'd just never be friends?"

She looks upward and shakes her head a little but doesn't answer me.

"I don't believe this…" I state.

"You don't understand either. Let me go," she tries to disengage herself from my grip but I hold on.

"No, I don't understand," I agree. "Explain it to me…like I'm a kid."

"I…just let me go please."

"Catherine, answer me, please," my voice is calmer.

"You…you do the same…you of all people should understand," she replies which only add to my confusion. She sighs with exasperation. "You push people away all the time!"

"I have my reasons," I squint my eyes.

"Everybody does," she counters.

"This is not an answer!" I'm getting frustrated. "You owe me an answer!"

"I don't owe you anything," she shouts back.

"Yes you do! Seven years…seven years that you've been bitching at me, treating me like crap…for the past seven years I've been paying for her absence, for your guilt…so a fucking answer is the least you owe me!" I hold her firmly

"I couldn't…I can't…I couldn't!"

"Couldn't do what?!"

"I couldn't deal with a burden like this!...So I pushed you away…at least I wouldn't feel responsible if anything happened!" she finally let out and I know the rain isn't the only thing falling on her face.

"You were hoping that what? That I'd go or we'd never be friend and this way you'd be safe?" I laugh bitterly. "Seven years Catherine…are you going to keep on like this?"

She's trying to escape my grip but I won't let go until we clear the air.

"Is that what you really want? For us to keep fighting?"

She looks away and I can feel her shaking under my grip. "Is that what you want?" I repeat.

"I want you to let me go," she asks with a shaky voice.

"I'm here Catherine, and I'm not going anywhere," I tell her. "Look at me, I'm not going anywhere"

She stares at me but doesn't say anything.

"I'm here right now, I've been here for the past seven years. Pushing me away might make you feel safe now. But how will you feel the day I'm not here anymore and you realise that you only waste your time and energy pushing me away when you had time to make things right instead?"

Once again she doesn't say anything. 'You might not think I'm worth the time and effort…and I can understand that. I'm not asking us to be best friends or friends at all…but we don't have to keep on acting like we hated each other, because it's tiring and it hurts…I can't take it anymore. I'm here Catherine, I'm here to stay, so stop blaming me for being here, stop blaming yourself for Holly, it's been seven years, I think today is the right time to start moving on."

I walk away feeling emotionally disoriented. I feel angry, hurt, and so many things I can't describe. This is why I hate therapy because it makes emotions ten times more intense, I already have a hard time to deal with normal one, so now it's even worse.

I march to my car feeling nothing but the need to get away. It's like I was suffocating, I feel too much at the same time, too much and I might choke in all those feelings.

I fumble with my keys and climb in my car, when I look back I see that Catherine is still standing on her stop, oblivious of the rain. She looks lost, for the first time in all the moment I've known her, she appears fragile, vulnerable to my eyes. For the first time I truly see her.

I sigh deeply and exit my car, closing it again before walking back to Catherine. I stop when I'm close to her. She's looking at me with a pitiful expression, I know she's crying, even the rain can't cover her tears. I don't really know what I'm supposed to do right now. Instead of thinking, I decide to go with my instincts for once. I move slowly, so I can wrap my arms around her, the embrace is awkward, but I've never been good at being physical with people, so it's the best Catherine will get today. It's good if you consider the absence of physical contact for the past seven years we can say that at least I'm trying.

She stays still for a moment, but then slowly I can feel her letting go, her shaking intensified and soon she's sobbing in my arms. I don't say anything and just hold her tighter.

xxxxx

The sun is about to rise, I can feel her coming before I can see her figure in my dim lit living room. I turn my head from the window and watch her as she's trying to sneak out of my apartment.

"Don't worry, I'll close behind you," I state. She's startled and turns around toward me, her expression wavering between guilt and panic.

"Shit…you scared me…I thought…"

"That I was sleeping?" I provide. "Sorry to interrupt your sneaking out," I smirk.

"Yeah I…uh think…I should go…thanks for everything," she stammers.

"You don't have to go Cath," I tell her gently.

"I think it's better if I do," she takes a step back toward my door.

"If you want to go, go. But I'd like you to stay. You can rest a bit more, I can make us something to eat and then I can drop you off at your place."

"No, you don't have to bother…"

"Cath…we had sex, we didn't kill anyone. This will be awkward if you run away and try really hard to pretend it didn't happen. It did happen, and there's nothing wrong with it, we're adult and we can deal with this. So just relax, ok?" I tell her calmly as I stand up from the window ledge.

She obviously struggles inwardly to know what she should do. I walk to her but stop at a distance. "Stay, please," I ask gently.

She looks away and sighs, I hold my hand out so she can give me her belonging, I put them on the back of the couch while she puts her shoes down.

"How about some coffee and breakfast?"

"Sure…" she shrugs. I lead her to one of the bar stools and go on the other side of the island.

After our rather emotionally draining session yesterday, I took Catherine to my place – because it's closer to Adam's office than hers, she was still very upset and I didn't think that leaving her alone was a good thing; I thought she needed a hot shower, dry clothes and a coffee, then when she was feeling better, and had a better grip on her emotions I would have taken her home safely.

Things changed course somehow, I couldn't explain how it happened, but it happened. We talked some more, both vulnerable and exposed, our feelings raw…we ended up searching a physical release to all those overwhelming emotions.

I didn't sleep long – I've never been a heavy sleeper, but I figured Catherine needed rest. I wasn't really expecting to witness her getaway but then again, it might not be a bad thing.

We had emotional sex, it served a purpose, nothing more nothing less. That being said, it's time for our lives to take their normal course. But normal doesn't mean pretend nothing happen, it's quite the opposite. Things between Catherine and I have never been easy, and therapy might help but it's not making it any easier. And now, we went from nothing for seven years, to share a hug, and then having sex in a few hours time frame, that's quite a jump to say the least.

Now it doesn't take a genius to know that having sex was probably not the best thing that could have happened. Especially considering that we are trying to repair a rocky relationship and build a new one. Unfortunately I don't have a DeLorean, so it's no use to ignore what happened.

I silently fix us something to eat and some coffee for her, as for myself I stick to a bowl of cereal and cold milk. Catherine is lost in thoughts, she glancing at me every two seconds or so, obviously uncomfortable. I take my time to cook, so she can relax in her own terms. We will talk when she's ready.

"About what happened…" she finally decides to talk.

"Yeah about that, I was thinking that I could move in with you next week, what do you think?" I ask her with a serious face.

I obviously took her off guard and for the first three second I can see panic in her eyes growing, then she chuckles and shake her head. "You think you're funny Sidle?"

I smirk. "I think I am actually," I reply before placing a plate in front of her.

"Listen…" she tries again.

"Cath, like I said, we had sex, it's no big deal."

"I used you Sara."

"And I used you, so we're even," I smile a bit.

"How can you be so casual about it?" she frowns.

"We were both emotionally overwhelmed and used one another to have some kind of release, now that we have some balance back, I don't see why I should make a big deal out of it. It was a normal reaction to emotional distress," I shrug before putting a spoon of cereal in my mouth.

"You sound like him," she states, I look at her expectantly not knowing what she's talking about. "Adam, you sound like him."

Oh.

I guess having spent too much time around shrink might have that side effect.

There's a long silence between us and we both focus on eating.

"I guess today's not the day I'll prove you wrong about me using my sexuality…"

I snap my head up looking at her with disbelief. I decide not to let my anger get the best of me.

"Sorry, that was uncalled for," she chastises herself.

"Yes, it was," I state calmly.

Once again silence sets in.

"It hurts actually," she speaks again. "They say you can miss what you never had, but it's bull. I see you with the boys, with everybody else, and I wish we had that," I just nod. "By the time I was able to finally admit to myself that it hurt more to keep you away than to take a chance…things were so messed up, it was too late."

She stands up and go put her empty plate in my sink before returning to her stool to finish her coffee. "I'm going to call a cab and go," she declares obviously uncomfortable to show so much vulnerability yet again.

"Don't waste money on a cab…" I sigh. "Look, I'm going to take a quick shower and then I'll drive you home, okay?" I can see her hesitance so I speak again. "Please, I'll be real quick."

She sighs. "Alright."

I rush to the bathroom and come back in casual clothes, at first Catherine is nowhere in sight and I'm thinking she left, but her laughter reaches my ears. She's sitting on my couch watching Sponge Bob. I crouch behind the couch lean next to her side silently and she's so into the show that she doesn't feel me near her.

"So you're a closet fan after all," I whisper.

She jumps a bit at my low voice and turns her head toward mine, our face are only inches away from one another. There's a moment of uncertainty, for a moment it's like electricity was travelling between us. Images from last night flash before my eyes quickly and I have to blink to clear my head. For a split second I see the same expression on her face, she breaks the eye contact and turn to the screen again.

"Yeah, don't tell anyone, I like it though," she chuckles. She turns to me again, and once more we share an awkward moment, I clear my throat and stand up.

"Ready to go?"

"Yeah, sure."

We leave my apartment and go to my car, we drive to the sound of the radio and twenty minute later I'm in her driveway. I cut the ignition and we stay still.

"I'll see you at work then," she finally says as she unbuckles her belt.

"Cath," I call her before she steps out of the car. She stops her movement and turns to me. "You know…she'd have been a good CSI, Holly…if everything had gone well, she'd have been a good CSI, I mean, you're not so bad of a mentor."

"Yeah…obviously," she says with sarcasm.

"I meant it yesterday. You have to move on. I know there's nothing I could say to convince you that you did nothing wrong. But it's a fact, you did nothing wrong, it wasn't your fault and you have to start accepting that. It wasn't your fault Catherine. It wasn't your fault."

"Yeah…" she whispers fighting back tears. She clears her throat with a light sob. "Thank you for the ride," she says hastily before exiting the car and closing the door behind her.

I let my head rest on the wheel and let out a heavy sigh. I wish things could be easy between us, I wish we had a friendship and not that uncertain merry go round then I'd know what to do and I'd do it right. Instead I never know what to expect and when I think I figure things out, there a twist making things even more uncertain.

The door opens again and before I can process what's happening, Catherine is next to me again.

"You're wrong, you are worth the time and effort…all I need to know is that it's not too late….tell me it's not too late and I'll make up for the time we wasted because of me. I'll be the friend I should have been, the friend I want to be…things won't change overnight but if you're patient with me then I'll show you I'm trustworthy…just tell me it's not too late…" she pleads me.

I'm a bit taken aback because I hadn't seen this one coming, it takes a little time to process her words and the depth of the moment we're sharing. This is the moment everything changes between us – though I must say that after what happened following our session with Adam things had already take new twist. But this moment right now is where everything could really begin between us. Weeks ago we agreed on taking a fresh start, but this…this a whole new step a very big one. There's a difference between trying to have a less strained relationship and working on having a friendship. It's about committing to a new relationship and if we decide to take that step forward there's no turning back.

I'm just starting to get my wit back together when I realise that she's taking my silence as a refusal.

She swallows with difficulty and she turns her head quickly but not fast enough so I can't see tears making their way down her cheeks. She passes her hand on her face in a swift movement and sniffs. "If you need time, it's alright…I mean, after seven years I can't really expect you to…"

"It's not too late," I cut her. "It never is."

Her head snaps back toward me, she's obviously surprised by my answer. I'm really not used to see Catherine this vulnerable, and I don't think I ever want to.

She smiles through her tears, relief lighting her face up.

"Like you said it won't change overnight, but I know we can make it. We can be friends."

I get bold enough to rest my hand over hers. She nods several times and as quick as lightning she lands a kiss on my cheek. "Thank you," she says before squeezing my hand briefly.

I smile at her and watch her exiting the car, walking to her front door and going in.

I expel a breath I wasn't really aware of holding, I'm taking everything in and a part of me is really scared but excited at the same time. To me friendships are the hardest relationship to maintain, and I really hope I won't mess this one up, because it means a lot to me to even be given this opportunity after all this time.

I guess we're starting a new page.

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**Thanks for reading.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Hi everyone! Thank you for your wonderful support and review. It took me a long time to manage to write this one - Mojo was being lazy, but now he seems to be on fire so hopefully I'll be back with more soon.**

**Enjoy,**

**So ;)**

**ps: **scuby** thanks for fighting with me you're the best :)**

Max**, thank you for your insight, it helps a lot ;)**

Freddie,** thank you for giving me tips and your opinion. :)**

**

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**

**Chapter 11**

"Welcome ladies, how are we today?" I ask once Catherine and Sara are settled on the couch.

"Tired," Catherine shrugs. I look at Sara who just shrugs as well.

"So…do you have the feeling to have found closure…about the Holly Gribbs issue?"

Catherine looks at Sara who doesn't stop watching ahead of her.

"Yes we resolved the Holly issue," Catherine answers not convinced and start to tap on the arm of the couch.

Something's different. I don't know what but something changed. They've always been tensed around each other, even during 'quiet' sessions. Sara seems relaxed somewhat, I know it might not last, but something has definitely changed. I don't know what happened after our last session, but whatever it was changed everything. Catherine on the other hand is nervous or at least in a hurry for this session to be over with.

"Catherine?" I call.

She looks up. "Yes?"

"Is there anything you want to share?"

"What?" she looks at Sara quickly and then back at me. Something definitely happened between the two of them, I don't know if Catherine's afraid Sara will tell something or if she did something she's afraid of Sara's reaction, in any way something's going on. "No…nothing," she answers quickly.

I look at Sara who's just as calm and detached as usual sighs "We found closure, we talked it through," she shrugs.

"Yes…" she clears her throat. "We…talked…it through," Catherine adds, and blushing a bit if I'm not mistaking.

"How do you feel about it?"

"Feel about it?" Catherine chews her bottom lip. She looks at her watch again for the tenth time since she got here.

"Yes."

"I'm glad we…worked it out."

"Is there something wrong?"

"Something wrong? No…what makes you think something is wrong?" she turns to Sara. "Nothing's wrong," she says firmly.

"Your nervousness, your avoidance…" I can feel her ready to protest so I correct myself. "The vagueness in your answers, make me think that something is indeed wrong."

"I just told you, nothing's wrong."

"He's right actually," Sara finally points out. Catherine's head snaps in Sara's direction, she obviously feels like Sara ganged up with me. "You do seem nervous about something. Is something bothering you?" Sara asks looking at Catherine with genuine concern.

"No, should there be?"

"I don't know Cath, you're the nervous one here," Sara's used of Catherine's short name and for Catherine not to tensed at it is a confirmation that something changed between them, something positive. "Something's bothering you at work?"

Catherine leans forward with her elbows on her knees and puts her face in her hands. She laughs sarcastically. "Do you know what today is?"

"Today is…Tuesday," Sara ventures.

"Yes it is…it's also one of the rare days that I allow Lindsey to play hooky from school, we go out for pancakes…then we go to the florist….and then to the cemetery."

Sara tenses up a bit when she's making some connection. "Eddie's death anniversary is…" she lifts her eyes to the ceiling. "Three months and five days from now," she frowns.

"Yes…but today is…well would have been…"

"His birthday…" Sara finishes. Catherine looks at her puzzled but Sara goes on without paying attention to it. "You celebrate his birthday…don't you feel it weird?"

"Well, I don't expect you to know anything about losing a love one, let alone understand it."

Sara just nods silently and purses her lip to prevent herself from responding to the barb.

"How do you feel Catherine," I ask.

"I'm fine," she sends me a fake smile.

"Catherine, how do you feel?"

She lets out an exasperated "I feel…tired," she starts. "I'm tired of not knowing who…or why…tired of not being able to give my little girl answers…tired of pretending I'm okay with it."

I can literally Sara's walls standing up, she trying really hard to contain her anger under a mask of impassivity.

"If I had worked that case, if I had conducted the interviews, processed the evidence…_I'd_ have found what I needed to make a case but… no, I wasn't allowed to."

Sara snorts and with an angry smirk and shakes her head lightly before going back to her contemplation of the wall.

"If you had worked the case it'd have been dismissed in court because of conflict of interest," I point out.

"Like it ever stopped her," Sara mutters, Catherine is so caught up in her own anger that she doesn't catch it. I decide to let that comment slide, not willing to give an exit to Sara.

"So you're considering Sara's work on this particular case wasn't enough."

"Did she find what happen? No. Did she catch the responsible person? No," she says angrily. "She did a goddamned lousy job!!" she explodes.

Sara laughs hollowly and shakes her head, a reaction which naturally makes Catherine's anger rise up a notch.

"Do you have something to say?" Catherine snaps.

"No…I did a lousy job," Sara's voice is full of sarcasm and resentment.

"Yes, you did," Catherine accuses her.

"No I didn't, no I didn't," Sara states with a controlled voice yet her anger is underlying. "I did a perfect job, I worked my ass off, more than ever to build a case from scratch."

"You did a lousy job! Cause no one is paying for taking Lindsey's father away. No one!" she chuckles bitterly. "I wonder how you managed to pass your competency test each year when you couldn't make a case with all the evidences you had on this case!"

"My job was perfect, you want to know the 'lousy' part or it? You really want to know?"

"Yes, enlighten me!"

"It was you, Catherine. The only thing lousy was you."

"Do you always blame the victims Sara or are you making an exception for me?" Catherine snaps.

"This is useless," Sara states calmly, looking at me.

"Answer me! Do you always blame the victims when you screw up?" Catherine stands up, having trouble to control her anger she starts to pace while Sara contains her emotions – as usual – and just stays sit and waits patiently for what she knows is to come. Catherine laughs in a humourless way. "Now, it's my fault if you didn't work properly, it's my fault if you didn't know how to do your job…next time we don't find a murderer we'll blame the victim for looking for troubles, why don't we!"

Catherine's clenching and unclenching her fists. "You know, I wouldn't expect you to know what it's like to be a victim and need closure…what it's like to have your father snatched away right before your very eyes, but we're supposed to be empathetic…you're supposed to be empathetic…you knew Lindsey…you knew me…that was supposed to make you work harder to solve it!"

"Right, I didn't do of half of anything," as usual Sara caves in to fuel Catherine's anger only to better put her down in a few moments.

"Finally you admit it!" and as usual Catherine doesn't see the freight train coming at full speed in her direction, by the time she'll realise what's coming her way she won't be able to avoid the collision.

It's something I've learned watching them. Catherine has no grasp whatsoever on her emotions and her only defence mechanisms are anger and confrontation. Sara on the other hand is much more in control of her feelings, she hides them, and has a sense of self control which means that the only time you take the upper hand with her is because she lets you do so.

Someone said that no one could make you feel inferior without your consent. And Sara is just like that, she'll only let you take the upper hand when she feels that the juice isn't worth the squeeze. She allows you to 'stomp' over her, she allows you to 'take her down', but reality is that she never loses the control.

In a relationship between two persons when there is no equality or complementarities, there is a relationship of domination. There's the dominant and the submissive, the dominant has the illusion of power while the real power belong to the submissive. I think that it's what people don't really get, but Sara definitely knows it, and this knowledge makes her even more powerful.

"I worked my ass off on this case, more than ever," Sara states calmly.

"Really? I've seen you do more with less evidence. Was that because I was involved? That's it isn't it? Was it payback? Because I wasn't nice to you?" Catherine is getting more and more agitated which contrasts with Sara's calm. "So answer me, do you always blame the victim or is it just me?"

Sara's jaw is clenched and in about a minute she's about to take control and put Catherine down.

"How dare you blame me for _your_ lousy job?" Catherine asks rhetorically "I'm the one who had to pull my daughter out of a sinking car, if I had been one minute later she'd have been dead too. Would that have helped your case? Think you could have found who was responsible then, uh? Is it the drive you needed to do a proper job? Maybe she should have died, yeah, maybe then you'd have tried harder. Is that it? _Is it_?!"

Sara stands up and faces Catherine. Impact in four, three, two, one…

"Let's have a look, play by play on that case. The car was sinking, so water washed off pretty much everything, you were 100 per cent involved with the victims, your ex-husband and your daughter, so you knew that you couldn't work the case, yet what is the first thing you did? You handled the evidence, that was strike one. And it's one good thing I didn't mention _your_ slip on the report because that would have reduce my already short list of evidence."

"I…"

"Shut up," Sara cuts Catherine sharply. "You want answers, I'm giving them to you. We had only one witness who happened to be Lindsey and what did you do? You pressured her so much, she would rather clam up than telling a thing about her father not wanting to make him look bad. That was strike two."

"I had little to nothing as far as the evidence went, I search for the gun for days and didn't put my hands on it, I did everything possible and more and the only chance left was to have a confession from that egotistical, delusional, stupid, wannabe singer. I had her on the spot, she was about to confess and what did you do? You burst into the interview room to threaten her life. What was her next move? She got a lawyer and guess what he told her? They don't have anything against you, so don't say a word. Strike three, congratulation Catherine because your little desire for vendetta threw away every chance you had to find justice."

"Bullshit, maybe if you understood what it's like to be a parent…" Catherine starts but Sara just keeps on.

"Interrogation 101, you never ever, under any circumstance interrupt an interview with a suspect…"

"Your mother would have done exactly the same thing if it was you she had pulled out of a sinking car…"

"I did my job perfectly, pushed myself on this case like my own life depended on it while you put all your energy into trying your best to mess with my job because you decided from the very start that I wasn't good enough. Well you should be happy because you sure did your best."

Catherine's jaw is tightly screwed, her breathing is shallow and heavy. She looks like she had just received several deep blows in her stomach.

"You want someone to blame? Look into a mirror."

"Fuck you Sara"

"You already did!" by the look on Catherine's face tells me that this wasn't just a witty come back from Sara. Now I know why I felt that things were so different at the beginning of the session, that explains a lot.

"Shut up!"

"You went into a revengeful power trip just not to admit that you were weak, that you were vulnerable, that you were suffering, that you were scared, you acted strong and self righteous not to even remotely deal with your own pain that you actually created your own prejudice."

"Go to hell," Catherine spits between her teeth.

They stare intently at one another, daring the other to make a move. The tension is palpable, Catherine's emotions are threatening to spill at any moment. I'm ready to jump in at any second if I feel any inappropriate physical contact coming.

Sara's expression relaxes from anger to smugness, she won this battle and is clearly proud of it. She shakes her head lightly with a cold smirk. "With pleasure," and with that she grabs her belongings and leaves my office. "I'm done, Doc," she eventually throws over her shoulder. For a split second the idea of putting bolts on the door crosses my mind, as they seem to make a habit of leaving in the middle of a session, but I shake it out just as quickly and focus on Catherine once again.

She is standing still, shaking with tension, disoriented from Sara's words. Suddenly she takes the vase standing on the coffee table and throws it violently against the wall, it shatters in pieces, and water splashes everywhere. Catherine heaves with her fists balled tightly, unexpectedly she lets out a cry of frustration and anger.

"Does it feel better?" I ask after a long silence.

"Oh yeah watch me I'm fucking relieved!" she groans.

She starts to pace with energy on a really short distance. "Who the hell does she think she is? How dare she…" she mutters to herself. I can see a door closing, and before she has a chance to lock herself in her on mind I step in.

"How do you feel?" I decide to give her what she needs. She needs to work her anger out, to do so she needs something or someone to channel that anger on.

"Seriously? You have to ask how I feel right now?" she almost shouts. "What kind of question is that? 'How do you feel', did you buy your degree on the internet or something? I'll tell you how I feel. I feel like everyday for the last few years someone has rubbed my skin with sandpaper, and each time it scabs over, they come back and rub it again. And then, the real kicker, you'll like this since you obviously get off on other people's pain…after they're scrubbed my skin every day, they drop me in a vat of alcohol. Does that sound pleasant to you?" she's speaking at the top of her lung with vehemence.

"You're angry," I state.

She stops immediately and looks at me like I was intellectually challenged. She tilts her head. "I'm angry? How absolutely intuitive," she fakes awe. "What clued you in that I'm angry? The pacing? The shouting? The fists clenched at my side? The vase I threw against the wall? The vein that's probably prominent on my forehead right now? What was it?"

"I take that as a yes," I give her the last push she needs to reach her breaking point.

"Yes of course I'm fucking angry!" she shouts even louder as if to blow my head off with her words. "Yes, I'm fucking angry because she blames me! I'm fucking angry because you…you just sit there and let that happen! I'm fucking angry because that bastard, that pathetic excuse of a man nearly killed our daughter! I'm fucking angry because he's not there anymore, now instead of almost no father Lindsey doesn't have a father at all! I'm fucking angry because it hurts! I'm angry because Sara…because…because…" she struggles and gets frustrated.

She looks at the coffee table, the mugs she and Sara used to have a coffee at the beginning of the session. She grabs one of them and makes it take the same path the vase did only a few minutes ago. The impact doesn't seem nearly enough so she takes the mug Sara left behind and sends it crashing against the wall as well. Broken pieces fly down to the temporary cemetery of glass. She balls her fists tightly to the point her jointure turns white, she screams and pants, like she was suffocating.

"…she's right…" she whispers with difficulty. "I'm angry at myself…because she's right…" she repeats. There is no doubt that this is the first time she made this statement out loud, add to that the fact that she's utterly vulnerable now that all her emotions have been let out, I know that those words have had a nuclear impact.

She sobs but fights her tears, she covers her mouth with her hand and paces quickly. Her legs seem to give up on her, she falls more than she sits down on the couch. She tries to breathe but it's like there was no oxygen in the room, and starts to hyperventilate heavily. She buries her face in her hands to try to calm herself. Even from my sit I can see her shaking, she gasps loudly, greedily sucking air in. it's only a minute before her little moan of distress turn into violent sobs.

I stand up silently and go to the kitchen side. I come back three minutes later and wordlessly, I put a new mug full of hot tea on the coffee table next to the tissue box. Then I sit down on my chair again and take a sip out of my glass of cold milk, letting her compose herself in her own time.

She's shaking quickly her legs up and down in a nervous way; her breathing, though irregular is calmer than a few minutes. She pushing she ball of her palms against her eyes, probably berating herself for crying.

"Fuck", she mutters. She takes big cleansing breaths and finally lifts her head up only to look straight at the ceiling. She's heaving, here breathing slowly takes a regular pace, but she can't help little hiccups. Her face is a bit red from her outburst, she's staring at the window, mimicking Sara unknowingly. She looks exhausted and fragile, like a precious object that can chatter at any moment.

She finally sees the steaming mug, she looks at me briefly but doesn't maintain de contact, I just wait patiently for her to be ready again. She takes the mug and cradles it in her hands. Her eyes are glue to the liquid as if it was holding the great secret of life.

"Empty…" she suddenly says. Finally she meets my gaze, I look back but don't say anything. "Something tells me you're going to ask me 'how I feel', I thought I'd spare you the ridicule," I smile subtly at her comment, she recovered her wit. "I feel empty…raw…hurt...so much that I can feel it on a physical level…" she sniffs "I'm so…angry…I feel so much…anger that I'm…numb…"

She loses herself in thoughts and I let her. "I could tell you what happened that day…then you'd tell me that it's not my fault…but it is my fault…but I needed to show that I was the good parent, just because I couldn't bite my tongue…after all his choices of that day weren't any different from any others…but I had to be petty…"

"Do you have a child?" she asks.

"I have children, yes."

"I had to watch my daughter fearing for her life…I had to watch her almost dying before my eyes…in my dreams…" she shakes her head. "In my nightmare…I'm too late," she poses and breathes deep to hold back her tears. "You want to know what the worse part is?" she says purely rhetorically. "I put her in that car…my attitude put her in that car…at least when I blame the world then I don't have to face that fact…I don't have to look at myself in the mirror and face that fact that I almost killed my baby girl…" she looks away quickly, and in spite of all her effort she can't keep silent tears from falling.

"It's not your fault Catherine."

She chuckles bitterly. "Wasn't it you who asked me to act like an adult?" she looks at me intently. "Well, adults take responsibilities for their action and that's exactly what I'm doing, so you see…it is my fault"

"As children we control the elements, the time, the rotation of earth, the position of the sun and its ecliptic, even the drift of the continents…" she's frowning and is about to cut me off but I just raise a finger so she lets me finish. "We think that when we grew up, those powers would grow with us, but instead something else happened. We start to get acquainted with the reality and stopped living in our fantasy world. And in reality, there are not so many things we can control. You see, taking responsibility for your actions is one step but the hardest part is to acknowledge your own limits."

She stares at me silently, letting my words sink.

"You can spend your lifetime blaming yourself. Or as you said you can take your responsibilities, but in order to do that you need to define them, and to define them you need to acknowledge the extent of your control. You cannot take responsibilities for other people's action."

She nods slowly and finishes her tea. "And this should make me feel better?"

"No, probably not, but taking your responsibilities, the real ones, will help you to let go and move on, and that's what growing is all about."

She puts her mug on the table and leans back again. She sighs heavily and passes her hand on her face in a tired way. "I should go, my daughter is waiting for me."

I just nod and stand, I go to the wall, which still wears the imprint of her breakdown, and start picking up pieces of glass.

"I'm sorry about…"

"Don't worry about it," I answer honestly.

"Was it…the vase was it…sentimental?"

"It belonged to my late wife."

"Gee…I'm…"

"Don't…it's nothing glue can't fix," I reply, she's about to apologize again but I cut her. "Honestly, don't worry."

"Alright."

She stands and goes to the sink to drop her mug, then she gathers her belongings and goes to the door.

"I'll see you next session," I say.

"Yeah."

She opens the door and steps outside, she starts closing the door but instead steps back in.

"Doc?"

"Yes."

"I hate you," she says calmly.

I chuckle a little. "It's good thing I'm not here to be loved then."

She snorts and smiles a bit and with that she's gone.

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**There you go, I know a lot of you asked for Sara's past to pop up and it will trust me. I'm a girl with a plan so just bear with me , and have faith in me ;)**

**Thank you for reading**


	12. Chapter 12

**Hey everyone! After a little vacation trip in Spain, I'm back :) . Now, to apologize for the delay I wrote a long chap. It's a bit still but it had to be done. Thanks again for your review, I'll never say it enough, you guys rock!**

**Enjoy,**

**So ;)**

**ps: **scuby** thanks for everything, I know this is at the polar opposite of the plans but, still thank you because I wouldn't have make it without your help.**

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**Chapter 12**

_Catherine's POV_

Going to the cemetery this year was quite strange. After my session with Adam, I felt drained, numb even. It felt like in a dream, like an out of body experience.

I know that my relationship with Eddie has been…has always been in the downside of life. It's not that I didn't love him, because I'm sure I did at one point…no, I liked him. Our relationship has never been healthy, but I liked him very deeply. I can't say love, because even in my drug induced haze I knew he wasn't trustworthy enough for me to give him completely my heart. But I did care about him a lot, I loved the feelings he created in me, I loved the fact that he made me feel special, I loved the fact that he made me feel like I was somebody. I love the fun we had – even though it was thanks to the little help of our powder friend and her cousins. I loved the functional part of our dysfunctional relationship, but not him, because he deceived me way too many times for me to remember and really early in our relationship too.

When he died, I was angry, I remember, I wasn't thinking 'damn, he's dead, I've just lost one of the most meaningful person in my life' – yeah because in spite of everything he had a big part in my life, no I was only thinking 'how could you put our daughter in this situation, you almost killed her you fucking bastard'…not really sympathetic I know, but like I said, I was angry. Years passed and this anger in me never faded. I actually never cried because I lost him, I cried because I almost lost my daughter, I cried because my daughter lost her father, I cried because I wasn't sure I'd manage to be the only one for Lindsey now.

I've never cried for him yes, but then I did feel a pinch in my heart and some hurt that he was gone. Earlier at the cemetery, it was the first time I didn't feel anything. I was just standing there a little afar from Lindsey as she proceeded to tell her father those things he'll never have a chance to hear. I felt empty, empty of anger or even hurt…and I think it's probably worse not to feel anything rather than feel something even if it's anger.

That's still how I feel right now, void of feelings. The session with Adam left me like an empty shell.

I'm lying in my bed, staring at the ceiling while Lindsey is asleep with her head on my shoulder. It just occurred to me how much energy it takes to be angry and to fight, to hold my head up and be strong, how much energy it takes to face those painful memories in therapy. For a moment I wonder just how much of it I'll be able to bear.

I try to stop my mind from thinking about the session of today, I close my eyes and snuggle a bit closer to Lindsey, hoping Morpheus will give my mind a little break.

xxxxx

'…_Maureen Louhgan, 18 years old trapped in a sinking car… drowned…trace of physical abuse…water tampered material evidence we found…waiting for the autopsy…'_

I'm reading over and over again, the slim report we have on our case, I'm holding my head in my hands and sigh heavily…

Frustration is burning my veins we've been working non stop on this case and I don't feel like we've moved at all.

"We must have missed something!" I exclaim. "We're not going anywhere!"

"What did you expect Catherine? Clues to rain?" Sara replies coldly. "We're lucky to have found as much as we did considering the current of the water that night."

"We missed something, we must have…you check the engine and underneath the car, what, twice? I checked the whole inside and the trunk. I'm sure we've missed something…"

"Why are you so sure we did?"

"…it wouldn't be the first time…there has got to be something…"

"I beg your pardon?" I lift my head up and stop my rant as I feel irritation in Sara's voice. She's sending me a dark look, since our session we've been only talking as far as work was concerned, or rather I kept it that way, to say I'm still upset by our session would be an understatement.

"There must be something that we've missed…" I repeat.

She laughs bitterly. "Oh I get it, you say 'we' but what you mean is that _I_, Sara Sidle, didn't do my job properly right?" she says angrily.

"I'm just saying… we must have missed something…it …" I reply slightly irritated.

"Go on, say it," she dares me through clenched teeth. "It wouldn't be the first time that I miss something…right?" she shakes her head.

"Cut the fucking paranoia! There's a family out there who needs answers, answers that only us can find and….and … you can't…you missed…"

"I can't even fathom the need for closure of the family of the victim, or their need of justice and that's why I'm doing such a sloppy job. That's right, sorry I had forgotten."

"You weren't thorough enough, I'm sure that if you had pushed more, pushed the first time…You did it wrong the first time! You didn't…"

"The first time?" she cuts me off. She snorts. "We're not talking about this case are we? This has nothing to do with Maureen Louhgan, this is Eddie Willows' case strikes back isn't it?" she says matter-of-factly. "You're projecting yourself on this case…new flash, it has nothing to do with you. I always do my job properly, I'm not saying that I don't make mistakes, but I push myself on every case. I meant every word I said during our session. Now if you're unable to separate your life from your job, I suggest you go and ask Grissom to pull you off that case," she says sharply before taking her gloves off and dropping them in the bin. "I'm going out."

A sudden surge of unidentified feelings runs through my veins, I want to cry, I want to scream, I want to hit something hard, I'm suffocating, I'm lost, I'm…

I close the door of the lab in a last moment of clarity before taking a chair and hitting the wall with it. Silent tears pearl on my cheeks, and I'm groaning out of frustration as I fail to understand what I'm feeling except highly emotional and unstable. I pass one hand in my hair and start to pace like a cage animal.

I don't know how much time passes by, but I stop myself as the door is opened. Sara looks at me without emotions, glances at the chair lying on the floor and back at me. For a reason I ignore I can feel tears coming back so I rush out the door without a word. I take refuge in my office. I'm hyperventilating, no matter how deep I'm breathing , it's just not enough. I burst into tears and bury my head in my hands.

What is wrong with me?

I feel so vulnerable, and I hate this feeling, worse I don't know why I feel this way. It's like I had no longer the control of my own body or my emotions.

I start to shake uncontrollably and my tears double.

Fuck. Get a grip damn it!

"Catherine?"

I'm startled by the quiet voice of Grissom. I wipe my face hastily, but tears don't stop.

"Are you alright?"

Does it look like I was anywhere near 'alright'? His question makes me angry instantly.

"I'm fine," I reply dryly.

"Cath…"

"I'm fine Grissom," I repeat more firmly. "If you'll excuse me, I have work to do," I add, as I stand and go to the door of my office, inviting him to leave. He scrutinizes me and decides, for his own good, not to push the issue. Steps out of my office and I follow him, I lock my door and go to the locker room to spread some water on my face. As suddenly as this gamut of emotions came, it leaves my body and I feel empty and cold.

I compose myself again and watch my reflection in the mirror. I can honestly say that I'm staring at a stranger. I take deep breaths and then decide to return to the lab where I left Sara.

"We're missing something," I state as I put on new gloves. She sighs with frustration but I don't let her time to speak. "Look at it this way, the doors were unlocked, her seatbelt wasn't holding her back, yet she didn't make it out, why?"

She lets my words sink in. "I get your point, but we can't really answer that until the autopsy. Maybe she was already dead, maybe she was intoxicated," she reasons. "I'm going to see if Doc is ready for us, I'll page you," I nod and watch her leave. She then turns around and comes back in the lab, she looks at me with a neutral expression, but her eyes display concern. "Are you okay?"

A wave of warmth which I couldn't explain spread in all my body at her words. "Yeah," I whisper in response. She waits a bit and then she goes.

xxxxx

Sara enters the break room and bumps into Greg. I hadn't seen her around since the beginning of the shift.

"Uh…sorry," she mumbles and goes straight to the cupboards.

"No problem Sar…" he chuckles. "What are you looking for?"

"This," she says as she pulls out the first aid kit and puts it on the table.

"Ooh what happened?" Greg asks, from where I am, I can see her right hand with a rather nasty looking gash. "You want some help with that?" he takes the cotton ball from her hand when he sees her struggling. She doesn't resist and lets him take care of her. "So, what happen?"

"I'm at the crime scene and I'm about to…"

Wait a minute, did she just say what I think she did. I stand from the couch and approach her.

"You went back to the crimes scene without me?" I ask feeling the anger rising in me.

"Yeah I…" she barely answers that I cut her off, like yesterday, everything feels tenfold and overwhelming, I can't really identify what I feel but I know I can't contain it inside and it gets the best of me.

"Better yet, you hurt yourself on a crime scene? Do you realise that you might have tampered with evidence?" I almost shout.

"Excuse me? I…"

"Damn it Sara!"

"Catherine, maybe if you let her…" Greg starts.

"Stay out of this Greg! I'm not in the mood for your faithful puppy act," I reply harshly. "I'm sick and tired of you Sidle, sick of your daredevil irresponsible behaviour. You undermine me going at a crime scene on your own, not warning anybody…I'm the fucking lead Sara on this case and you should have called me and let me know what you were doing, that's the protocol! But no it's always bullshit like that with you, and then we have to clean your mess! I'm sick and tired of this!"

"Cath, calm down, you're overreacting," Warrick tries to temper me putting a hand on my shoulder, but I shrug it off immediately.

"No! I'm done with this, always the same, six years and some she's here she always thinks about herself only, she's always bending the rules, never thinking that her actions have consequences then the next thing you know she's working her ways with Grissom to get away with it…"

"Come on let's take it down a notch," Warrick insists.

"Yeah he's right," Nick finally steps in.

"No, guys, let her get it off her chest, Catherine seems to have a lot to say," Sara states with an even voice.

"Sara, come on," Greg begs her in a whisper.

"Do you have anything more to say?" she asks me with a frown. "You're breathing down my neck all the time because according to you I don't work enough, or do a sloppy job, when I work myself off, you're reprimanding me because I'm doing what I'm supposed to? I'm the one who's sick here. Your mood swing, your reproaches…I'm done taking this shit," her voice is even.

"Sar…Cath…come on, let's sort this out…we're a team…family, let's calm down and talk this through. You know you don't mean those words," Nick says softly.

"Oh but I mean it. She's not my friend much less my family," I spit hotly. "No one wants you here, so why don't you do us a favour and go somewhere else to be miserable and pissing people off?"

Somewhere in the back of my mind and through my raging haze I know that I've gone too far, much more I know that Nick is right, I don't mean any of this, but then again if I admit then I admit I'm wrong which pisses me off even more. Right now my emotions are overwhelming me and letting the steam off feels good.

There's a deafening silence, or maybe it's just me who can't hear over my heavy breathing.

"Right," Sara finally says calmly. She pulls her hand from Greg's, she grabs some bandage and throws away the used cotton balls in the bin next to Greg. "If you'll excuse me, I have to fuck up another case and show my incompetence in all its glory."

"Sar…" Greg calls her, but she doesn't stop and keeps on walking away.

The hot wave of aggressive feelings washes over me and instantly I feel drained and depressed. I also can feel three pair of disapproving eyes on me.

"I don't know what's wrong with you, but this was just uncalled for and out of line," Greg starts. I'm about to reply but he just raises his hand and shakes his head. "Whatever your feelings are toward Sara, don't include us, I think that I speak for the rest of us here when I say we love Sara and we want her here. You better clean up your act, because this little hating game is getting old."

"He's right," Nick adds.

I look at Warrick waiting for his piece, but instead of words he just shakes his head. I rush out and go to my office, once again tears flow against my will and I can't find a reasonable reason for them to be.

xxxxx

I've been crying – out of pain, frustration or anger, I'm not sure which, for the past half hour. Tears are just flowing down, at first I was sobbing, but not it's just like my eyes were leaking.

What have I done?

I've been a bitch toward Sara that's what. And just a few days ago I was asking her to be my friend. At the same time she just triggered all my anger…but that's not an excuse and…I don't know why I felt like I did, but it's like I had the urge to be harsh with her, I mean of course I'm a bit angry she went back to a scene without telling me, but those things happen a lot with everybody, there was something more, it's like I couldn't control a mass of feelings in me, something was strong and begging to come out…not only that, it had to be directed at Sara, and only her. Why? I don't know, I don't have a freaking clue.

Maybe it's because of the therapy, I mean I'm a wreck and she's the only one to know it, she saw me being vulnerable and maybe I resent her for that.

The knock on the door cuts the train of my thoughts. I pass my hands quickly over my face and pray that I might hold tears back for a little more. "Come in," I grant entrance with a steady voice.

"Catherine," Grissom looks at me intently. "I want you to go home, right now," he says without any animosity or explanation.

"What? Why?" I ask surprised. Then it crosses my mind that maybe Sara went to talk to him…nah, that's not her, she wouldn't go to him in her state and even if they were to cross path she wouldn't have told him anything. I wonder where she is a what she's doing and if she's still angry…I should go an apologize, yet again.

"Because I said so…"

"Don't give me that! You want me to go home, you tell me why first," I reply firmly.

"Because I don't think you are fit to work tonight," he states calmly "Before you start to have a go at me, I think you are tired and emotionally exhausted, so I want you to go home and rest for a couple of days, then come back, this is no option or demand," he doesn't give me the opportunity to reply before exiting my office again.

In a matter of second my emotions flip over to refuel my veins with anger. This is the first time in a little more than a decade that he's said I wasn't 'fit' to work.

I have the sick feeling that my life is escaping my grip, just like my emotions.

xxxxx

I follow Grissom's order and as soon as I'm back home, I spend the time pacing with the phone in hand dialling Sara's number but never calling. I know I have to talk to her, to tell her that I don't know what got into me, and I owe her more than one apology. But I can't do it because even I can't put a finger on what is wrong with me or what is it that I feel.

I wake up with a start. It takes me a few seconds to take in my surroundings, apparently I fell asleep on the couch without noticing. I move my head slowly to undo the knot in my neck, stretch and then head to the kitchen, to my surprise Lindsey's sitting at the kitchen table in the dark. I turn on the lights and she squints her eyes briefly.

"Baby? What are you doing? Is there something wrong?"

"Can I…there's something I need to tell you," she says nervously. I sit down quietly and I'm immediately anxious, she's looking guilty, my mind is racing with all the bad scenario possible as to what she wants to talk to me about.

"You can tell me everything sweetie," I try to sound reassuring.

She takes a deep breath and looks at me with apprehension, her eyes don't hold the contact with mine. "The day…the day daddy…the day of my play," she starts. "I was upset and I went with daddy and he…"

I find myself holding my breath while my stomach is contracting itself. I knew Eddie, at least I think I did, so whatever's coming it can't be bad, I mean, he couldn't have hurt her, could he?

"He promised we'd go for an ice cream at the park before going to the museum of sciences, because I liked the giant heart you know?... He promised we'd go but then he…" she bites her bottom list and looks away.

"Then he said that he had something to do, an important thing for work and then he'd have to spend some time with his friend but he promised we'd go to the museum and get that ice-cream. I was mad because I knew he was lying and that we wouldn't go to the museum…I was really mad because he almost always did this…and…so I… I wished he was dead," she says the last part in a whisper.

"I wished he was dead…but I didn't mean it, I swear…I was just really mad at him, I didn't mean for anything to happen, I swear mom…I didn't really want him to die…I didn't mean to kill him," she says with tear filled eyes. "I'm so sorry."

"Oh baby…" I sigh in relieve because I was really expecting the worse. I wrap her in a warm hug. I feel pain in my heart as her sobs are reverberating against my chest. "Baby, it wasn't your fault, nothing that happened was your fault," I tell her soothingly as she cries herself out on my shirt. "You didn't do anything wrong, I promise, it's not your fault," I repeat.

I feel powerless, I wish I could take her pain away. There's nothing more painful than to see her hurting like this. I tighten my embrace hoping that my love might heal her.

It takes her more than an hour to completely calm down and once she does I decide to lie down with her in my bed so she can rest a bit. Obviously this was something that has been eating at her for long years. I can't believe that she was convinced she had killed Eddie because in a moment of anger she had proffered a bad wish.

Her revelation sent my mind in a whirlwind of questions and thoughts. I'm thinking about what Adam said about responsibilities, about my behaviour to Sara…I'm thinking about a lot of things yet I don't seem to see the light at the end of the tunnel so to speak. I mean, I see the parallel between Linds' guilt and mine, in both cases it is true that we didn't have control on what was happening, well, I had control for some things, but acknowledging it doesn't make me feel better at all.

Then let's focus on what I had the control on.

I had the control when we were at the play, I could have kept my mouth shut and not said anything to Eddie about his lateness. I can blame him to make such a scene, but I did throw a match in the powder barrel.

I had control on…my actions when it came to rescue Lindsey, and I manage to do the right thing to keep her safe.

I had control on…my behaviour during the investigation and I screwed that up.

I had control on…my attitude toward Sara and I definitely screwed that up.

I think that's all I had the control on. If I can't change what happened I can at least acknowledge my wrongs to Sara.

Sara…

Thinking about her brings a new set of questions. After my outburst, my out of proportion outburst, I came to realize that there was something about Sara…something about her which always pushes me to channel powerful emotions toward her.

Question, why?

Why is it that Sara seems to always draw intensity from me? Or rather, why do I always attack her when I'm out of my depth?

I sigh and snuggle to Lindsey a little more.

This has to stop. I have to stop taking it out on Sara. I have to figure out what is my problem and solve it, but first I have to go and apologize to Sara, I probably ruined our friendship without giving it a real chance to begin.

xxxxx

After spending forty minutes in front of Sara's door pondering whether to knock or not I decide to turn back, I know I should apologize as soon as possible, but maybe it can wait another day.

I turn around toward the stairs, I nearly jump out of my skin as I'm facing Sara, each of her arms around a grocery bag.

"Looks like I'm messing with your getaway again," she says flatly before passing me by and opening her door. I just stand there and watch her, she leaves the door open behind her as she enters her apartment.

I suppose there's no point running now that I've been caught…again.

I step into her apartment and close the door behind me. I stay in the entrance not really knowing what to do with myself. Sara just puts her groceries away, for several minutes there's nothing but the sound of jars and plastic bags being moved around.

Once she's done she opens the fridge and takes a bottle of water and a soda out of it, she passes in front of me and hands me the bottle of water before moving into her living room. She sits on her couch and starts sipping her soda.

Why can't she yell at me? Or attack me for being such a bitch to her? I'll never understand that with her, no matter how bad I act with her, how much I hurt her she always behaves like she didn't care, like nothing happened, worse, like it was a normal thing.

I sigh and make my way around the couch and sit on the armchair so I'm facing her. I sit down and put the bottle on her coffee table. She lifts her head up and stares at me.

"I…" I start but words don't make sense in my mind.

She looks at her watch. "One word in about twenty minutes…impressive," she says with sarcasm.

"It's not easy…"

"Nothing's ever easy with you," she tilts her head. "Except maybe bitching at me," she smiles humourlessly.

"Touché," I whisper. "Listen…I came here to apologize…not just for yesterday…for…" I chuckle and glance at the ceiling "For the last six years…even though I don't know where to start…you uh…you were right…"

She laughs before I can go on. "Wow, maybe I should get pen and paper to write that down…you're admitting I was right outside of the work context…I need to keep trace of that, we're making history here."

I shake my head with exasperation. "You know what…nevermind…" I stand and walk to the door determined to leave.

"So that's it?" she asks seriously as she leans on the back of the couch with her arms crossed on her chest. "One lame attempt and you're out of the door?"

"I didn't come here to be laughed at…it is already hard as it is without you mocking me…" I reply feeling anger slowly creeping back into my veins. "I don't know why I bothered coming here…" I mutter as I keep walking to the door.

"No, I don't know either," she simply says.

I don't know why she always does that, pushing my buttons when I'm trying to do what's right. I mean, I'm here to say I'm sorry and she seems to take pleasure into seeing me struggling. She's cruel, she makes me think of a child torturing a wounded bug instead of showing it mercy. I'm making big effort here and she…oh and fuck it, I turn around and face her again.

"I came here to fix things, to make sure that we still can be friends and you…it's like you didn't care!"

"You seem awfully eager to leave for someone who cares that much," she simply says. For several minutes we're both looking at different direction in silence.

My initial anger vanishes, she's right, I was going to run, because it was easier than to really try.

She brings one of her hands behind her neck and kneads her flesh in a firm movement. She closes her eyes and sighs. "You want to know what hurts the most?" she asks rhetorically. "The hope. The hope that something is going to change, the hope that this is the last time it happens."

I'm honestly not sure to understand what she's talking about.

"I didn't dream it did I? That moment in my car, you asked me if it wasn't too late to be friends? That day we actually decided to be friends, I didn't dream it did I?" she frowns and tilts her head. I shake my head lightly but words escape me.

"You're sorry…" she says "It's always the same…you make me believe it's the last time it happens, that next time will be different, just so that I let my guard down and then you'll do it again…and the only reason it hurt so much is because they're crushing the hope they gave you…and you're just like them…" she rambles on.

"Them?" I frown. "Who are they?" I ask quietly.

She looks at me and it seems that she had forgotten I was there. "People," she answers, but I have the feeling that she was talking about someone specific. She sighs "I'm sick of entertaining the illusion that this will be the last time you'll treat me like crap…I mean is this how you're going to react every time you're out of your depth?"

Once again even though she's giving me time to answer, I'm like paralysed and I don't utter a word.

"If it is then we're screwed. I'll never tell you what you want or need to hear, I'll always tell you the truth. You can't lash out at me out and hurt me purposefully every time you don't like what you hear, because this isn't friendship in my book. And if it's the only thing you have to offer, then what's more is that I don't want this friendship."

"I know…I'm sorry…" I try to speak in spite of the lump in my throat.

"I've heard this song before, way too many time to count," she replies calmly. "It's just not enough Catherine. You can say you're sorry a million times it still won't be enough."

My emotions are threatening to choke me completely. Is she telling that we can't be friends?

"Sorry talk is not enough, it's cheap. I committed myself to this friendship or soon to be friendship, I've committed myself that day in my car when I told you it wasn't too late. The only question here is to know whether or not you're ready to commit to this friendship as well."

For some reason I feel like I was trapped in a corner, I don't understand why because I do want to be friend with Sara. Maybe it's because for the first time I really take conscience that it is, as she says, a commitment.

Commitment is a big, frightening word. Generally when I hear it I tend to run on the other side, not that I'm scared or anything; but rather to disappoint or being disappointed I decided to avoid commitment when I can. There are exceptions of course, when it comes to my family and especially my daughter, then I'm committed to death.

The way Sara put it is no joke, somewhere I know that the choice I'll make today is of lifetime consequences. Why am I scared then? I want this.

Maybe that's it, I want it so much that I'm scared to screwed up. I know that Sara already means a lot to me, it's a fact that I can't explain but it's a fact.

My stomach is a knot and breathing is painful so much my chest is heavy. I'm picturing my life without Sara as my friend in it, and it hurts more than I'd have ever expected. How did I do before, when our relationship was messed up? Easy, I took her for granted and whenever I felt like losing her I'd just block the feeling and make sure not to push her away for a while.

"You have a choice to make right now. Either you quit, you walk out of here and we give it a rest for good, or you stay and you do what you have to, to make it work, to convince me that today is the day the pulling-pushing game stops."

She sighs at my persistent muteness "Don't think it's easy for me, I'm insecure too, you know."

It's weird to here her admit such a thing. I've always seen her as someone tough, and the way she seems to distance herself from everything always made me believe that nothing could reach her.

I finally know why I'm scared, this is it, the fate of that entity that is 'us' is being decided right now. If I choose to quit, then we won't ever be anything more than colleagues. This is the end of the instable relationship, we're putting a label on it once for all.

"It's different this time Sara," I finally whisper.

"Show me," she dares me. "Better yet, convince me."

I still don't know what to say, or what to do, I don't know what she's expecting from me. How am I supposed to prove myself to her?

She stares at me for a minute and then goes to her kitchen , she takes a gulp of her soda and then roams in her kitchen apparently fixing herself something to eat.

Once again I'm rooted on my spot not far from the front door. I'm looking at her, while struggling with my thoughts and emotions. Clearly everything is my call and she's not about to concede me an inch.

Six years to fix…where to start? I guess that facing my past mistakes and foul steps, is a beginning like any others.

I move closer to her counter and sit on a barstool facing her. "I'm not sure how to do this," I confess quietly.

"Start talking to me," she counters, and I understand the deeper meaning of her words.

This is the first time in over six years that I'm going to talk to her. Words have never been my strong suit, except in an argument, I'll always find something to reply. When it comes to talk about what I feel, then I'm as blank as page without words.

I'm watching her hands moving with an odd fascination. Even with that band around her wounded palm I still find them fascinating. In the back of my mind there's a nagging thought telling me to reach out and kiss her wound to make it better, but I shake it off. I think I like her hands and I like the way they move. There's something rough and yet delicate, strong yet soft about them. They are little like an epitome of Sara, rough yet delicate, strong yet soft, fascinating, like a secret you want to be the only one to know; a bit like an uncut diamond precious and tough.

"Honesty is the base of any good relationship…right?" I start and she glances quickly at me and nods before returning her attention to the composition of her sandwich. "Yesterday, I felt out of my depth…I couldn't explain what I felt, but it was like something powerful built up inside me and I just…exploded."

I decided that since I'm not good at this, I'll just say things as they come, that's still the best policy as long as I stay honest with her and first and foremost with myself.

"I don't know why but when I feel like that…it has to be directed at you…specifically you."

She stops what she's doing and looks at me intently. "So, I'm…your favorite punching bag…great, I do feel better now that I know," she chuckles.

"I know, again I'm sorry."

She puts the sandwiches she just made onto a place, she puts everything back into place then clean her hands in the sink before drying them onto a dish rag. She faces me again and scrutinizes me in silence.

I've always admired Sara, for the length of her knowledge; for the intensity of the energy she devotes to work; also because no matter how angry she is, she always tempers herself, and if she goes off her hinges once she calms down, she calms down, I mean unlike me she doesn't let her anger stew, she just moves on.

She sighs. "If we want this to work you're going to have to find another way to deal with your emotions. Talk to me, go scream in your office, hit a wall, or whatever, but I'm not your punching bag."

I just nod, ashamed at my past behaviour. "When I'm…caught up in my emotions, I don't mean what I say…I guess I'm just aiming at hurting…"

"And you're good at it."

"Yeah…" I take a deep breath as my emotions threaten to choke me, I fight them back it's hard, but that is worth it is ever easy. "A pen and some paper wasn't such a bad idea earlier," I say out of the blue.

"I was joking," she looks at me with a soft gaze.

"I know, but after reflection, I think clearer when I make lists. There are six years, almost seven, to process, so might as well be methodical."

She snorts with a subtle smile and nods.

Long hours, several sheets of paper, some coffee, tears, harsh words and heart fell confessions later, as I drift into sleep in Sara's bed - while she's using the couch, a contented smile is playing on my lips. It's been excruciating, and draining, but I made it through.

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**I'm already on the next chap. I'll be back soon. ;)**

**Thanks for ready**


	13. Chapter 13

**Hey everybody, it took a bit longer than intended but I made it. This chap was is a bit off, but it was needed. Thank you very much for all your kind reviews, you always make my day.**

**Enjoy,**

**So ;)**

**ps: **scuby** thanks for fighting with me and helping me to find my way through this. :)**

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Chapter 13

I look at my watch again, and frown once more. Neither of the women is here and our session is about to start, ergo they are about to be late. I address the issue of punctuality during our very first session and since then I've never had to complain, and the time it happened they had had the courtesy to call me prior to their late arrival.

Someone knocks on my door and I have the feeling that today's session is about to be compromised. I can only hope that Sara and Catherine are both alright. "Come on in" I allow entrance to whoever my visitor is.

A light smile plays on my lips as my old friend comes into my office. "Gil," I greet him, I stand from my seat and go to him, I shake his hand a put the other on his shoulder in a warm gesture.

"Adam," he smiles back at me.

"Please, make yourself comfortable. Can I offer you a beverage?"

"No thank you," he sits down on the couch.

Even though I'm always glad to see my friend, I do know that this isn't a social call. He's been calling me as far as the progress of Catherine and Sara's therapy went, and we've occasionally had a dinner out with some friends for a social gathering. Therefore his presence in my office isn't a good omen. I'm pretty sure I already know what this is about, he probably wants to step in. I do however put my assumptions aside and give him the benefice of doubt.

I sit back in my armchair, facing him. "To what do I owe your presence?" I ask him.

"First, I came to tell you that Catherine and Sara won't come today, they are at a crime scene outside of Vegas."

"Why do I have the suspicion that it was an intentional manoeuvre on your part?" I ask rhetorically.

"It was, indeed. I wanted to talk to you."

"I'm all ears."

"I want you to know that I appreciate the work you are doing with the girls…"

And here we are the first 'break-up' line. You know how it goes, they start by telling you something good and right behind the caress come the lick of the whip, the compliment is the sugar coat of the bitter pill.

"But," I provide.

"But I think this is not working," he states dramatically.

"What makes you think it isn't?"

"They are more at odds with one another, they argue even when they work together, they never did before…they…" he sighs. "This has to stop, it's for the best."

"Is it?"

"Adam, don't play around!"

"Their moods affect their work…"

"If it's the case I suggest you take the matter directly with them."

"I can't, they don't talk to me."

"You're their supervisor, you don't need them to talk to you in order to talk to them."

"It's not that simple!"

"It is," I reply calmly.

"Adam!" he raises his voice then takes a deep breath. "Adam…" he trails off. "You were supposed to fix them…you promised you'd take care of them…but…"

I decide to let him get it off his chest rather than take offence and respond right away

"They're not fixed….this isn't working and I can't do anything…and I can't stand it… I…"

"They are not broken objects Gil. I can't 'fix' them."

"You said you would!"

"I never said such things. I said I'd help them to work on their relationship."

"It wasn't supposed to make them worse than before," he states with frustration.

Being in therapy is like dropping a bomb. The epicentre of that bomb is the 'patient' who is affected directly. Shockwaves are sent from the epicentre to the world surrounding it, creating what I'll call collateral damages, of course each bomb is different, thus the shockwaves are more or less violent and are more or less wide.

As it turns out, Grissom took the blunt of the shockwave and is now disoriented, because everything he knew has changed and doesn't make any sense to him anymore.

"I warned you from the very beginning, I told you that they could change, that you probably wouldn't recognize them and I also remember telling you that it was a long process," my voice is even when I speak.

"I told you that if you didn't take care of them…"

"Catherine and Sara are both fine," I state, cutting him off. "Like I said, therapy is a painful process, painful and long, emotional distress or over emotional behaviour is a normal reaction. But I assure you that they are both fine."

"It's not true! Catherine is okay, she'll always be okay, sure she's emotional, but one day or two and she'll get over it. Now Sara…she…she's hurting, she's hurting and I know it and I'm not going to stand by and watch her suffer while you're messing up with her …I…"

Now that's a twist, it would seem that the real problem isn't where it seemed to be.

He passes his hands in his hair and looks around, obviously agitated.

"I can't let you hurt her like you do…I know this isn't working for her…" he trails off again "…she's aloof again, she refuses to talk to me, her aggressiveness is back, she's more moody than she used to…"

He starts to pace in front of the couch like a caged animal, his emotions getting the best of him.

"I can't let you go on like this, I'm putting an end to this therapy."

"You seem to have eluded the fact that this wasn't about you Gil," I say calmly.

"You think I don't know that?" he shouts sharply.

I just raise my eyebrows and sigh. "If my ears don't deceive me, you don't," I start. "You won't like what I'm going to say, but your feelings are irrelevant."

"This has got to stop!"

"I remember telling you that once the machine was in motion you wouldn't be able to stop it. Again this isn't about you Gil," I'm starting to feel frustrated, it's like talking to a wall.

"Fine, I'm putting an end to this therapy, starting now they're going back to their normal schedule, no more therapy, not on my time."

"As you wish," I simply shrug.

"You think they'll keep on coming, once I'll put an end to this?" he challenges me.

"They've always come here on their own will."

And it's true, I told them on our first session that they were free to go, and in all logic it extends to their freedom to come in the first place.

"Seeing your little game is hurting them, I doubt…" he starts with a despiteful snort.

"My little game?" I repeat, my voice is even but I do feel the first sting of anger.

"Yes your little game, Adam. I came to you as a friend, I asked you a favour as a friend and you…you just abused them emotionally, played with their feelings."

The proverbial line has been crossed, and now it is time for me to redefine the limits clearly.

"I will not tolerate your disrespectful insinuations any longer," I say firmly. "Your mind – clouded in your emotional haze – is obviously made up, so go ahead and put an end to this for your own interest, since it seems to be the only thing that matters to you."

"I care about them!"

"Keep telling yourself that," I say immediately. "You only care about your feelings for Sara and they happen to cloud your judgement."

"Don't you dare…" he threats.

"Dare what? How dare you saying you care about them when you don't? You've spent twenty minutes telling that I'm hurting _her_, that you can't stand to see _her_ like this, _her_, _her_, _her_…she doesn't come to see you, you can't play the knight in shinning armour… I'm sorry, you confused me with a match maker, and for your information this isn't a dating service."

"Don't you twist my words around!" he seethes.

"You said and I quote 'Catherine is okay, she's emotional, but one day or two and she'll get over it. Now Sara, she's hurting'," I repeat his words. "So when you have the nerve to claim that you act in _their_ interest, you'll understand that it's hard not to laugh."

"Screw you Adam."

"Very eloquent Gilbert," I counter.

He heaves a few seconds then lifts his head up as if to physically belittle me and then speaks firmly. "I came here as a friend to tell you that this therapy is over."

"As a professional I'd advice you to think about them and the damages you are about to provoke, to realise that this isn't about you and that your feelings whatever they may be are irrelevant, but obviously, it's about Gil Grissom, and Gil Grissom only – and apparently it has always been, so I'll just invite you to find your way back to the door."

He sends me a dark look and literally barges out of my office, slamming the door on his way out.

* * *

**Alright, not that I kicked Grissom's butt, I can focus again on our ladies.**

**Thanks for reading.**


	14. Chapter 14

**Hi everyone! First, thank you so much for your reviews, you rock! I'm sorry for the long delay but I had a good old writer block, I wrote a long chapter to make amend :).**

**Enjoy,**

**So ;)**

**Ps: **scuby** thanks for the help and the suggestions, this chapter wouldn't have been possible without your advices.**

* * *

**Chapter 14**

_Sara's pov_

"Are we still far?" Catherine asks me.

"I don't think so, I hope not," I reply not leaving the road from the eyes. "What does the magic pink paper says?"

"We have a 419 and…you're the lead."

"Cool," I reply with childish enthusiasm.

It's another ten minutes of silence before we finally arrive at our scene. I park the car and get out of it first, I open the trunk and hand Catherine her kit, she takes it and thanks me with a small smile.

We're facing a one story house, there's a little garden in front and I'm betting there's a bigger yard behind and maybe a pool. A few neighbours are at the yellow tape line watching and wondering what is going on but most of them are watching from their windows.

The EMTs are taking care of a woman, in her forties, long hair, brunette, her skin is pale and her frame seems fragile her face has been severely beaten. And something tells me that her clothes hide more contusions.

I clench my jaw as I get into my working mode and give Catherine my orders. "Go talk to her, then work the perimeter, join me when you're done. We'll do the floor together."

She doesn't reply anything but I can feel her stepping away from me and walking to the ambulance. I walk toward the house where Detective Polasky is waiting for me.

"Sara," he greets me with a subtle smile and a nod.

"Ronald," I greet him back. "Talk to me."

"Welcome to the Blokes, Martin and Anna Bloke, married, four children. Martin is lying inside, dead, and Anna is being taken care of. She's the one who called 911, she was beaten and half conscious, disoriented the whole time, couldn't do anything for her husband. When she was clear enough she called, but it was too late."

He indicates me as we walk inside the house. "You mention four kids," I keep him on track.

"Jude, 14, was taken to the hospital five minutes ago, he was bleeding too much. Nathan, 19 is my officer, ready to be taken in for interrogation after a check up."

"Anything else?"

"The window of the backyard door is broken, door has been forced and the room has been trashed, we found dirty footsteps, someone looked around for something, maybe it was a robbery. I spoke to a few neighbours, the Blokes are a nice family, Martin was a doctor, well known, an exemplary citizen and neighbour, Anna's a nurse but she divides her time between the hospital and making house call, the four kids, three boys and a girl…Nathan, Astrid, Jude and Cameron, all go to school, good kids, never causing any trouble, a bit a loud sometimes, but no one makes a fuss about it because they are young and harmless."

"They found anything upstairs?"

"The window in one room is opened and the rooms have been trashed a bit…and that's about all the first officer considered as out of normal. I'm warning you, it's not pretty."

We're in the living room, next to the kitchen, lying in a pool of blood three feet away from us is the body of man, I'd say at least seven feet tall, rather athletic, large frame.

"That's a lot of anger for one man," I state.

His head has been smashed so hard that he's barely recognizable, his hands are bruised and around him the room as been destroyed, the furniture is upside down and blood is a bit everywhere.

I take photos of the body and make samples, I move around the room and mark evidences, there's a cricking sound, like someone was moving on the hardwood floor. I stop all my movement and listen, after a few seconds there's the same noise, I turn around and look at Ronald, he shakes his head and puts his hand on his holster.

I was crouching down so I stand up and take my gun out. I realise that there's a little trail of blood going to dark corner of the wide room. We move slowly and arrive in front of a closet that is built into the wall. I have a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach.

I reach out a hand to open the door and feel Ronald getting ready to fire if need be. My heart is beating fast and cold sweat is pearling on my forehead as adrenaline is ready to spread in my body. As soon as the door is open we hold our breath, the beam of my flash light reveals a young boy curled in a ball and covered with some blood.

"Ron, radio the EMTs," I order reholstering my gun, instantly. "Kid, can you hear me?" I ask softly as I reach the body in front of me, he lifts his head up and looks at me, he seems in a haze, his own head too heavy for him and I can feel him shake slightly. "Are you hurt? Can you move?"

He loses consciousness before answering me, I gather him in my arms and Ron makes sure to lead me through the damaged room and the maze of evidence. The EMTs take charge of him immediately and assure us that though it looks bad his life isn't in danger.

"What happened?" Catherine asks me as she sees my blood tainted shirt.

"I think we found the youngest child, he was in a closet covered in blood," I reply absentmindedly. "We have one kid unaccounted for, we need to reach her."

After over two hours of search we found what was most likely used to kill the victim and several samples of blood upstairs. I have the feeling that the B&E is a cover for a domestic violence case that turned very wrong.

xxxxx

"You asked for their medical records?" Catherine asks me as she enters the lab where I'm analysing evidences. I can feel irritation in her voice.

"Yes, did you get them yet?"

She looks at me in disbelief. "Why did you do that? This is a case of home invasion that turned really wrong and you're looking for who knows what in their medical records, wasting precious time to find our perp, not focusing on the essential…"

"I am focusing, perhaps you want to do the same," I reply firmly, not taking keenly her insinuations. "The evidences lean toward a case of domestic violence Catherine, and…"

"What evidences?!" she cuts me off.

"Anna shows contusions that are at least a day old and…"

"Which she justified by an attack that happened when she took care of a schizophrenic patient."

"Catherine, something is going on within this family, I know that no one broke into that house, I can feel it and…"

"Oh so now we rely to your super instinct and your feelings…once again you're going off deep end. It's always the same with you, you see domestic violence everywhere. And while you're chasing goose egg, the real perp is somewhere getting away with it and..."

"The perp is one of them!"

"There are footprints in the backyard indicating that someone did enter that house and leave," she spits throwing pictures in my direction. "We got DNA from the broken window, which was broken from the outside, the house has been turned upside down, so everything… _everything_ is corroborating the home invasion and you…"

"I am the lead on this case which means I investigate it as I see fit!" I seethe, my fists are tightly clenched and it takes me a lot of self control not to let my anger explode.

"You let your feelings and obsession blinding you and you're compromising this case, and if you refuse to do this job properly I'm not taking the fall with you, I'm going to chase the perp who did this and when this is over I'll file a report because your attitude is a threat to our job," she warns me.

"Be my guess!" I reply sharply. "It's because of people like you that people like him…like Martin Broke, get away with their abuses."

"What abuses Sara? How can you even know? Their neighbour, friends, co-workers, everyone acknowledge that he was a respectable, quiet and calm man, really dedicated…"

"Yeah, the perfect man, and the perfect family, you should know by now that those are the tell tale signs that something ugly is beneath the surface."

"You would know," she says defectively. "You just see evil everywhere, they are a regular family who just had the misfortune to be under attack of some lunatic who, thanks to you, is about to get away with it!" she repeats.

"If you don't approve of my decisions, feel free to ask Grissom for a reassignment, now if you'll excuse me I have work to do," I effectively close our argument

"A vendetta," she counters. "You're not working, you're conducting a personal and unjustified vendetta," she slams the door shut with force and the clicking of her heels resound sharply in the corridor as she walks away.

xxxxx

It didn't take long for Nathan to confess that he killed his father with one of the trophies of the library before trying to cover his tracks by making it look like a B&E. he said that his father was beating his mother, brother and him, when he had the opportunity he grabbed a trophy and hit several times.

As I had suspected the footprints in the backyard belonged to their sister, Astrid, who escaped the house by the window, something she did quite often judging from the traces she left on the wall of the house. She was out the night of Martin's death, out meeting her girlfriend's family.

Nathan confirmed that the he had helped Astrid to put the extra lock on her bedroom door, but in spite of that their father was forcing his way inside the bedroom to have a very special and sick father/daughter 'bonding time', which explained the traces of forced entry in the girl's bedroom.

Each of my suspicions turned out to be true, but it wasn't that hard, it's like I had been part of this family. It was like seeing the Sidle tribe all over again. The good appearances always put up front, everything that happened to the family stayed within the walls of the house, thousand of excuses ready to explain any visible bruises – the others would be smartly hidden under the clothes or not showing on the skin.

Martin was like my father, a smart man, who took pleasure in inflicting pain, very creative when it come to find ways to cover his actions. The more he got away with it and the more he liked it and felt powerful.

The history has been repeating just like in my household, Martin was giving the one too many beating to all those weak souls surrounding him but this time the unthinkable happened, someone stood up and gave him back his own medicine.

Something's off though, I know it, I've got this gut feeling that this was too easy, Nathan didn't try that hard to hide what he had done. As a matter of fact I didn't have to push him that much to have a full confession. His brother Jude confirmed gave him away easily too.

The evidences match their story.

But that's the catch; it's a story, a story that covers an ugly truth, uglier than all the nasty things that have been going on under everybody's nose.

"I suppose I owe you an apology," Catherine's voice announces as she enters the lab. I'm looking intensively at the pictures of the scene, trying to find what's odd about it.

I don't reply but she faces me and goes on. "Your instincts were right, oddly enough, it's almost as if you _had_ had supervision on this case. Good job."

"There's nothing good about it," I reply, I don't take proud into uncovering the truth. In fact I'm upset, upset that no one put two and two together sooner.

There were tale tell signs long before I noticed them, constant fractures, bruises, contusions of all kind. But everyone believed what that scumbag said, not even trying to see that the members of this family ended up in a hospital more than normal, closing their eyes rather than having troubles.

I'm upset because that asshole's dead and he'll never have to pay for his sins, for the lives he has broken.

"I need your signature on the final report so I can drop it in Grissom's office before going home," she says putting the report on the table.

"It's not over yet," I state glancing at her. "Something's off, I think Nathan lied."

"What makes you think that?"

"I don't know, something's…off."

She sighs and passes one of her hands in her hair, parted between the want to stay and dig my suspicion or leaving. "I can't stay…it's parents/teachers day today and if I miss it again Lindsey won't forgive me…" she says apologetically.

"It's alright, don't worry, I'll fill you in next shift."

She nods and starts to walk away, but she stops and turns around again. "Sara…you should go home and have some rest…" she says hesitantly with genuine care.

She's reaching out after our little fall out over this case. I am touched even though I don't show it, it's something that wouldn't have happened some time ago.

"You should go, you're going to be late," I reply after a while. I do appreciate her concern, but I also know that I won't be able to rest until I put the finger on what's seems odd to me.

"Alright, see you next shift," she caves in but I can see she wishes I'd listen to her advice.

She walks away and I focus again the pictures.

xxxxx

I'm leaning against the wall of the roof, its one of the rare recluse places of the lab. Few people use it to take some air when the pressure is unbearable and it's the haven of the smokers from the second floor. I've been hiding there for the last hour, for this precious time I made the world disappeared and convinced myself that it wasn't as fucked up as it is; for this precious time everything was fine, wishing that I could entertain the illusion longer.

The metal door of the roof is opened and I recognize the even footsteps of Catherine. "And here I thought Lindsey was good at hide and seek," she says before leaning against the wall next to me.

I love that game, at least when I was hiding, I wasn't getting beaten, and by the time I came out of my hiding place my father would be passed out, drunk, if I was lucky that is.

"How did the PTA thing went?" I ask nonchalantly.

"Good overall, she has some weakness in biology, but other than that she's doing great according to her teachers," she replies and I can hear the note of pride in her voice. Lindsey is a lucky kid, and even if sometimes she does give a hard time to Cath, with all that happened to her I think she is more conscious of her luck.

I feel the tips of Cath's fingers brushing my temple in a shy yet tender gesture, it's oddly intimate, but I don't really mind. I close my eyes at the contact and sigh.

"You didn't go home, did you," she states more than she asks before pulling her hand away.

"I'm fine, I slept a bit it one break room," from the corner of my eyes I can see her nod before staring in front of her. I take a long drag out of my cigarette.

"You quit on quitting?" she chuckles lightly.

"Nah, I figured now was a good time to take a break from it."

"Quite a break, I see," she refers to the three other butts at my feet. She scrutinizes me for a minute in silence before speaking again. "You found something?"

I take another long drag, hold it and blow back the smoke. "Yeah," I breathe deep. I suck the last drag out of my cigarette then throw the butt on the floor and crash it under my sole. I straighten up, walk to the door and hold it open for her.

"Thank you," she says before walking by me.

We head to the lab in silence, the corridors are feel with beeping sounds, sound of paper being brush aside, of vials being manipulated and all the noises that make this work place unique. Right now, though, it's one of those moments I find it excessively loud, especially after the quietness of the roof.

Once again I let Catherine walk first in the lab and then close the door behind us. I place myself behind the huge table in the center of the room while she goes in the opposite side, closer to the wall where all the pictures are.

"Alright, talk to me," she encourages me.

"Take a look," I point the pictures on the wall

She turns around "What am I looking for?"

"The intruder, as always."

"O-k…I see blood, I see…a pool of blood, blood cast off…" she hums and puts her bottom lip out a bit. She makes this gesture she always does when she focuses on something, she raises one of her hand in mid air and waves her fingers quickly. She takes her time to study each pictures attentively.

"Hum…blood drops…" she frowns, "…regular…leading to…" she looks at the plan of the scene, "The closet?"

"Exact."

"You said you found Cameron in the closet," she frowns again.

"Correct."

She thinks a bit. "Whose blood is this?" she finally asks, looking at me.

"Martin Broke's," I inform her which makes her frown a bit more.

She turns around a watch the plan again, I can see the wheels turning in her head, analysing every possibilities and explanations.

"The victim obviously didn't walk there, there'd be much more blood otherwise…so…" she holds her breath three seconds and releases it. "It was a regular drip, like…it felt from some object covered with Martin's blood?" she ventures before turning to me again.

I put a trophy on the table. "I went back on the scene after you left, and this is what I found in the closet," I take on where she left off.

The trophy is covered with blood, just like the one we found in the living room.

"Well…" she hesitates. "Let's see…" she thinks, "Nathan, used two trophies and asked Cameron to hide one?" she says with scepticism written all over her face. "This is absurd, I mean, why hiding one trophy and leaving the other in plain sight…nah, that's not it, I mean it doesn't make sense, unless…he intended to hide the other one and didn't have the time…but somehow I doubt he tried."

I let her put the pieces together, I know by her expression that she doesn't really like the next option.

"Wait a minute…are you saying that…Cameron, 'helped' Nathan?" though she doesn't say it, I know she hopes I'm joking and there's another explanation.

"No," I answer flatly.

She frowns with incomprehension and shakes her head slightly, she snorts with a small grin which looks like a grimace. The last option is just sinking in and she really doesn't like this one, refuses to let it out.

She starts to shake her head more vigorously "You're not seriously thinking that…come on Sara…he's barely ten years old…he…come on…you cannot be serious," she stammers rubbing her forehead as if to ease an headache.

"When I found Cameron, he was pale, unfocused, covered in thin sweat, shaking," I start with an even voice. "I thought he was scared…" I wait for her to look at me again before going on. "His adrenaline was crashing down," now that I know what happen I have re-assess the whole scene.

She looks at the pictures of the scene and back at me, then she looks at the pictures of each member of the Broke family before turning her back to the wall as to make it all disappear.

She's still shaking her head, trying to find her words but failing, her mouth opens and shuts several times but nothing comes out except snorts of disbelief.

"This…" she finally speaks. "This is insane Sara…Cameron….he's ten years old," she repeats. "This is impossible…I mean physically impossible for him, the strength it demanded to do this…Martin is 7'2 and built like a battle axe! Cameron is what…4'3…maybe 4'6 at best and he has a…his frame is one of a little boy, damn it!…I mean holding the trophy with both hands and stretching his arms to their limits, he'd only hit Martin's cheekbone! He couldn't do it!" she paces the room with agitation. "Tell me he helped Nathan, but don't tell me he did it all alone, he couldn't!"

I push pictures over the table in her direction. She takes them and studies them. "What's this?...wait when those were taken?"

They are pictures of Martin's body, I made David take them last shift, they show contusions in Martin's back at the level of his kidneys, and his ribs. "After I found the trophy, I went to the morgue to see the body again, that's what David and I found. Martin was wearing a thick sweater and t-shirt underneath, enough to 'soften' the impact, or at least prevent immediate marks."

Catherine's eyes are still glued on the pictures, just as I did earlier, she's putting all the pieces together. "You're right Cameron is way smaller than Martin. He hit his father in the back and ribs first, in pain Martin must have leaned forward, giving Cameron the right angle to hit," I go on.

Silence falls upon us, I know she's still trying to digest it all.

"This is insane…and so wrong…" she says with a faint voice. "He's only ten…ten years old and…this is wrong on so many levels…" she shakes her head again before putting the photos back on the table and burying her face in her hands.

"If only I hadn't pushed…I could have left it at that…but no I had to push…" I mutter after a long silence, voicing the thought that has been running through my head ever since I found out the truth.

She looks at me again. "You did your job Sara," she states.

"Wow, I feel better."

"This is our job. Our job is to make sure justice is done, and justice is about to be done…"

"Justice?" I cut her abruptly with a humourless laugh. "What justice? Do you see justice in any of this? Because frankly I don't!" I raise my voice a bit. "We're about to commit a ten year old to the system, not for stealing candies, but for murder 2! Does it sound like justice to you?!" I pass a hand over my face "This will not go away on his eighteenth birthday, he'll have to live and deal with this all his life, a life we're about to break a little more!"

I heave, anger, like a hot liquid is spreading on my veins and I can't hold it back. "Justice would have been for Martin Broke…that bastard…that fraction of a man…to still be alive and pay for what he did! That's the only justice that could have been! But there's no justice because he's dead, getting away with it all, yet again!" I shout.

"I know…" she replies, but her voice falls into deaf ears.

"This is the result of _his_ abuses! It's _his_ fault that it all happened! _His_ fault!!" I stress out. "Their lives are all ruined and who's going to pay for that?! Huh? Who?" I spit. "Nobody!" I slam my fist on the table. "Now they're going to pay for all his abuses, they're about to pay for the rest of their lives. So don't you stand there and tell me that justice is done!"

I pace to try to calm myself but it's not effective. I feel like burning from the inside so much I'm pissed off.

"Some fucking justice…" words die on my lips when my eyes fall on the folder of the case, the one Catherine left before leaving, for the first time bad ideas are burning my brain, very bad ideas tempting me to give in.

Catherine follows my gaze and I know she can hear my thoughts as loud as if they were on speakerphones. "You're not seriously considering it, I know you're not," she states.

"Aren't I?" I reply with an even voice, my anger still audible.

She gauges me with her eyes, and I think that I see fear in her eyes, she is afraid of me and what I could do. "Sara…" she pauses. "This isn't a bad idea, it's much worse and you know it."

I shrug. "We have a full confession and evidences to back it up…and if only I had left it at that…"

"Then what, Sara? If you had left it at that it'd have been just as bad! Nathan is trying to pay for a crime he didn't commit! I hate it as much as you do, but Cameron did it, and he's the one who has to deal with the consequences, no matter how willing to take the blame Nathan is!" she says sharply. "It is our job to uncover the truth and to make sure justice is done, this is our job Sara!" she repeats. "Cameron killed his father and that's the truth, that's what really happened. Yes it's horrible, ugly and wrong, but he has to deal with the consequences of it all."

She sighs. "Nathan, Jude and Cameron know the truth, I know it, and so do you," she goes on. "We can't send an innocent to prison."

I look away, she's right, I know it and if the idea crossed my mind I also know that I couldn't have done it anyway, if I'm absolutely honest with myself.

"I know you Sara, well, as far as work is concerned at the very least. And I know that even if the idea of corrupting this file quickly crossed your mind, you never seriously considered it," she echoes my thought without knowing it, an odd feeling of pride and gratitude invades me. I can't explain how it feels to know that she doesn't question my integrity, but I know it feels good.

"You're so sure about that, huh?"

"Go on and tell me you didn't register those evidence on the evidence log and put your observations down, tell me that you didn't follow the protocol," she dares me. I don't answer and look away. Of course she's right.

I sit down, I feel like I had a ton weighting on my shoulders.

"I'm as pissed off as you are about this Sara."

I snort. "I doubt it," I mutter.

There's a knock on the door and Greg appears in the threshold. "Sorry to disturb," he says quietly. "Jim said the Brokes are there and they're bringing Nathan in ten minutes."

"Thanks Greg," I say before standing up. I look at Catherine. "Can you take care of the Brokes and put Cameron in an interrogation room, I'll wait for Nathan."

Catherine just nods and takes the file with her, while I go to the rest room. I throw cold water on my face and stare at my reflection. I'm sick to my stomach, just thinking about what's going to happen. I take deep cleansing breaths, damp a piece of paper and put it on my neck, cold water does feel good. I pass dry paper over my face and then throw both pieces in the bin. I glance one last time at myself and exit the restroom.

When I arrive near the waiting area I spot Nathan in a flashy orange suit, handcuffed, with one officer on each of his sides. I go a look for Catherine. I enter an observation room, Catherine is on the other side with Cameron, and to my surprise Jude, Anna and who I assume to be Astrid are in there as well. I tap my knuckle gently on the two way mirror at the attention of Catherine, she excuses herself, leaves the two with an officer and joins me in the observation room.

"Cameron didn't want to be alone, so I decided to let them all be together for now, we'll keep Anna and Cameron for the interrogation," I nod. "I need to see Grissom quickly about a case I treated last week, can you hold on before doing anything?" she says.

"Sure, go ahead."

She scrutinizes me intently and I think she's about to say something but for some reason she changes her mind. "I'll be back in ten minutes top," she informs me before walking away.

I go back to the waiting area and approach Nathan.

"Hey there," I greet him.

"Why did you make me come here again? I told you everything already," he replies without animosity.

"Come with me," I simply say.

The two officers make him stand up and they all follow me to the observation room. One officer stays by the door while the other enters the room with us. He lets Nathan stand next to me and takes a step back.

"What are they doing here?" he asks me calmly, and I can see panic slowly sipping through his apparent composure.

"Let's do it again, play by play," I start, staring at the family in front of me. Jude and Anna are still showing bruises and yet unhealed wounds from their last round with Martin.

"It was one of those days where he didn't really need an excuse but found one anyway, one of those days he didn't hold back anything. You tried to defend yourselves as much as possible, but he was always stronger. I bet he was the kind to gloat about it, and make you feel weaker with his words, adding insult to the injury," I keep on.

I glance at Nathan and I can see his jaw tightly pressured, his breathing is slow and controlled, he's trying hard not to lose it. I think he knows that his lie is about to be crushed in pieces.

"The first hits came as a surprise, you probably were confused by your father's reaction, then it went very quickly. You were so shocked that your brain refused to process the images, you didn't want to believe that Cameron, your ten year old brother was smashing the face of your father with a trophy," my voice is even and emotionless.

Nathan's breathing has become irregular, shakier.

"By the time you came to your senses it was too late. So you did what you thought was right, you tried to protect your little brother. You told him to hide the trophy somewhere, then you started to make it look like someone had attacked you all," I frown. "Then for some reason you decided to tackle the problem differently. You took another trophy covered it with blood and left it there, that way you wouldn't be exactly lying, after all his head had been smashed with a trophy."

"One of the first thing we learn on my job is that devil is on the details," I add. "The base of the trophy you used to incriminate yourself was two inches bigger than the base of the trophy Cameron used; when he hid the trophy he let a trail of blood behind him; an then in your statement you said you hit your father in the head directly, Cameron being smaller he had to hit him in the midriff section first then his head."

I let my words sink in. When I glance at Nathan again his expression is grave and tears are silently pearling on his cheeks. He wipes them furiously with his sleeves, the silence is only broken by the clinking sound of his hand cuffs.

"I realised that, saying someone came in then it was like covering for that bastard, so I figured I'd take the blame, making sure that people find out his true color," Nathan says suddenly between clenched teeth.

I nod but don't say anything.

"I failed Cameron many times that night."

"You didn't, you tried to protect him, but it's a good thing you fail covering for him. I don't think you'd have made him a favour," I hear him snort at my words. "He bears the weight of his action on his shoulders, knowing the truth and letting you pick up the pieces is yet another burden for him."

Nathan laughs. "You want me to go and tell him that what he did was wrong? I would have done it myself, I'm glad that asshole's dead, I'm just pissed off that he took away my brother's innocence to his grave."

"Killing is wrong Nathan, it always is," I say firmly and I know he's about to protest so I go on. "Now defending the one you love and care about isn't. That's what Cameron did, only it came at a high price."

Once again Nathan grits his teeth. After a moment he nods, seeing the truth in my words in spite of his anger.

"What's going to happen to him?"

"Depends, first you'll have to tell the truth. Then, I suppose that regarding the circumstances, the DA will advise psychiatric evaluation and a follow up until his eighteenth birthday. Providing that he's not a threat for himself or anybody I think he'll avoid juvie," he nods. "You'll all make it through, just stay together and you'll make it through."

"How would you know?" he asks with a hint of anger.

"I've been there," I simply reply.

"You should go inside, have a little moment with them, then when my colleagues and I are ready, we'll start fresh," I add after a long silence. I turn around and nod to the officer who comes back to Nathan's side.

"How did you know?" his voices stops my exit. I turn around and wait for him to elaborate. "From the beginning you suspected what was going on in my household," he explains. "How did you know?"

My eyes are glues to Nathan's and for a second it's like we could see through each other. "As I said, I've been there," I repeat. "I've been there."

His little nod lets me know that he has understood the depth of my words.

"You'll be alright, with time, you'll manage," I say before turning around. I'm surprise to see Catherine in the doorway. I feel my heart speeding a bit wondering how long she's been here. I take a deep breath and walk to her in the corridor, while the officer leads Nathan out and brings him inside the interrogation room where his family is.

"How long have you been there?"

"I just arrived," she says but I can see that she is slightly irritated. "You said you wouldn't start without me," she lets out, I can hear her anger in spite of her hush tone.

"I didn't. I was having a little talk off record with Nathan. I figured that letting him know that we know would probably help things to go a bit more smoothly," I simply say before walking away to have five minutes alone in order to compose myself.

Two hours later I rush to the locker room, there I pace before hitting my locker violently several times, when my fist his numb I turn my back to it and let myself slide down.

Cameron's voice is resounding in my head, telling the tale of how his daddy liked to go in Astrid's room to 'play' even though Astrid didn't like to play; how his daddy got mad when he found out that Astrid wasn't there that night to play and how he started to beat everyone and say bad things; how he begged him to stop hurting his mom and brothers and how his daddy told him to shut up before he shut him up for good; how he wanted the screaming and beating to stop; how he took the trophy to make him stop and how he felt very angry and hit his daddy with all his strength because 'daddy wouldn't stop being mean'; how he went to hide in the closet because he always went there when his daddy would be very upset and start to hurt them.

I close my eyes, my heart is beating fast and I'm heaving, the nausea is gripping me so fiercely I'm afraid I'll be sick if I so much as open my mouth. I lean my head against the cold metal of my locker, letting it cool me a bit.

I bang my head softly three times. Why are things so fucked up? Just thinking about this family makes my anger rise again. I need to get out of here, of all this. Those are the days I hate my job, the days where solving the crime has such a bitter taste that it's like failing.

I stand up and gather my belongings, then I exit the room. The door opens before I can open it myself and I almost bump into Catherine.

"Sorry," I mumble before walking by her. She reaches for my hand, the mere contact burns me and rekindles the feeling of nausea so I jerk away and raise my hand out of her reach. "Don't touch me!" I utter perhaps a bit too bluntly for I see hurt passes through her eyes. "Please, don't touch me," I add softly.

It isn't her fault and I don't expect her to know that since she's not a psychic, but right now I'm in a place where every physical contact reminds me of my father's and as a result feels like an aggression.

"Are you alright?" she asks.

"Peachy," my tone lets her know that I'm anything but and something tells me she feels the same, maybe not as vividly as I do, but still the same. She just nods at my answer. "I'm sorry," I tell her genuinely, I always try to control myself but sometimes, times like right now, I'm afraid of my own reaction with people. I do regret my bluntness from seconds ago.

She shakes her head with a pinched smile to tell me that it's alright. We stand there, in the entrance of the locker room, in complete silence safe from the sounds of the lab. I suppose that the weird equilibrium which rules our relationship at the moment, makes us wonder where are the limits, when to step in and when to step away. Being probably the more unpredictable out of the both of us, I guess she's waiting for a sign on my part after my first reaction.

"I'm leaving, see you next shift," I finally say.

She sighs and nods. "Okay, see you next shift."

I nod and then start to walk away. "Sara," she calls me back. I stop my moves but don't turn around. "If you want to talk…" she starts but trails off. I turn my head slightly, not really looking at her but letting her know that I heard. I nod for all response and walk away.

xxxxx

"Nothing beats the classics," Catherine's voice joyfully says. I turn around and there she is holding two DVDs. "Mel Brooks rocks," she adds with a smile referring to the DVD of 'The Young Frankenstein' I'm currently holding.

"Yeah," I chuckle softly. Who would have thought that her and I would bump into one another in a video store?

"Movie craving?"

"Yeah a good comedy after those last few days is welcome," I reply. Grissom gave us the day off so I've decided to meet a friend and spend the afternoon to watch movies in order to clear my ideas a bit.

"There you are, I got us some goodies, 'Monty Python and the Holy Grail'; 'Little Miss Sunshine', 'Hot Fuzz' and 'Shawn of the Dead'," exclaims the blonde, blue-eyed teenager who came to meet me, her voice full of enthusiasm.

I turn to her and take the DVDs she's offering me I read the jacket. "'Shawn of the Dead', I thought we agreed on comedy?"

"It is a comedy, the first romantic comedy with zombies, it's written right here," she points out. She finally realizes that Catherine is there. "Oh I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be intrude," she apologizes.

"It's alright," I reassure her. "Brenda this is Catherine Willows, a friend from work," Catherine grins, it's the first time to I refer to her as a friend. Alright, she has the title of 'friend from work', but it's still one step away from 'co-worker', I have good hope that one day she'll be a 'friend' who I happen to work with.

"Catherine, this is one of my best and most precious friends Brenda," Brenda just beams radiantly with pride at her title.

They shake hands and I can see Catherine frowning a bit. "Have…we met before?"

"Maybe briefly a long time ago," Brenda replies nonchalantly, then she turns to me. "Are we good?"

"Yeah, add this one," I hand her the DVD I have picked out. "There, I think it's enough," I offer her money.

"Nope, I'm taking care of it and you cook, remember?"

"Right."

"Nice meeting you again Miss Willows," she politely says. "Oh and don't listen to her to pick a movie, her tastes suck," she sticks her tongue out at me.

"They don't suck!" I protest "Who introduced you to Hitchcock, and 'Cinema Paradiso', 'All About Eve'…"

"True, amazing you'd even know those movies if your DVD collection is anything to go by," she comes back giggling.

I push her playfully. "Hush! Brat," I giggle with her. I ruffle her hair and then she escapes my grip to go check out.

"It's Brenda…" Catherine trails of.

"Collins, yeah," I finish for her.

"She grew up."

"Yeah, apparently it's a normal thing for kids."

Catherine eyes are glued on Brenda and her mouth is slightly agape, I suppose she isn't over her shock.

"I'd gladly invite you to join us but…no offence but I really need to be away from work and everything."

She shakes herself from her stupor. "Huh, none taken, Nancy and the kids are waiting for me anyway," she holds up one of the DVDs she's holding. "Wall-E," she makes a funny voice and with both chuckle.

We stay silent for a minute. "I should…" "You know…" we start at the same time, we smile at each other once again. "Go ahead," I tell her.

"I meant it…at work I mean. If you want to talk…"

"Yeah I know. I might take you up on this offer one day, but probably not this time," I answer honestly. "Same goes to you."

"Thanks," she nods.

"We're ready to go," Brenda's voice announces attracting both our attention.

"Alright," I turn to Catherine again. "I'll see you at work. Have a nice day."

"You two have fun," she winks at us.

"Bye," I smile at her one last time, then I turn around with Brenda, I pass my arm around her shoulders. "Alright kiddo, what do you want to eat?"

"Good question, let me consult my stomach," she replies and I ruffle her hair again as we exit the video store.

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**I do pay attention to your remarks and yes Sara's past is on the menu and as always I have a plan, especially for Sara, and this chap – which gave me a real hard time, was necessary to ****put my future plan in motion.**

**Anyway, keep faith in me, I'll give you what you want. ;) **

**Thanks for reading.**


	15. Chapter 15

**Hi everybody! I know, I know it's been a long time since the last update, but with the summer vacations and then the return to work and school….well I didn't have has much time to write as I'd like, not to mention that ****Mojo was a bit reluctant to give me ideas.**

**Anyway, here's the chap 15. Thank you so much for your reviews you always rock my day :D**

**Enjoy,**

**So ;)**

**Ps: Thank you **Max** for giving me direction when I was lost ;)**

Cellen8**, like you, I do think Sara was wrong, but hey, our girl is just having a hard time to see the shades of grey and she's about to be taken down a notch ;)**

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* * *

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**Chapter 15**

I'm sitting Indian style on my armchair, reading and taking notes, when someone knocks on my door. "Come in," I grant them, finishing to write my thought.

"Hey doc," the warm voice of Catherine makes me lift my head instantly, both Sara and her come in and sit on their usual spots.

I look at them silently, and though I don't show it I am surprised to see them here. That's quite unexpected to say the least. I haven't heard about any of them for the past three weeks, I thought that Grissom had followed through his threat, and though I was against his choice I couldn't do anything to make him change his mind. Either he decided to be rational again, or they decided to come against his wish. I guess I'll never know.

"So…" Catherine starts with a sigh. "Did you miss us?"

"I was starting to feel like a lost puppy," I joke dryly and they both chuckles.

"I bet," she shakes her head. "How are you?"

"Have you been away so long that you forgot I was the one to ask questions?"

"Oh come on, loosen up a bit Doc, three weeks without us, you can bend the rules just a bit for once."

"I'm fine, how are you?"

"I'm alright"

"Sara?"

"Overjoyed to be back," she says flatly.

"We didn't call to cancel but Grissom said he would take care of it, we've had quite a case those past few weeks," Catherine adds before standing up, she goes to the fridge, retrieves a bottle of water from it and goes back to her place.

I take a few seconds to process this new information. I take it that my old friend didn't follow through his threat, but as a punishment for our last argument he left me out of the loop.

Petty.

I suppose it was easier for him to do so rather than apologize, he's always had a hard time admitting he was wrong where his feelings were concerned. I sigh and put the thought of him on the side for now, I'm sure we'll have the chance to talk about his attitude soon.

I put away the papers I had been working on and use the few next seconds to observe them. The least I can say is that now they are at ease when they are in my office. Catherine is sipping her water quietly while Sara is lost in her contemplation of the window. Far are the days when I started the conversation during our sessions, I've realised early that when I did they tended to feel aggressed and getting anything from them, then, was like pulling teeth out.

"We had a case…a gruesome one," Catherine starts, she's leaning forward with her elbows on her knees, her eyes are staring in front of her with an absent gaze. She then shakes her head slightly and looks at me. "It's part of our job…the gruesomeness, I mean," she elaborates. "Of course sometimes we have happy ends, or we deal with abduction, break and entering, theft…but it's a fact at least seventy per cent of our job is to deal with dead bodies and horrible crimes, rapes, any kind of cruelty you could possibly imagine, and even the one you wouldn't even conceive."

"Human beings' unlimited dark side," I state when she doesn't speak for a while.

"Precisely," she nods in agreement. "And this case…" she trails off and loses herself in her thoughts for a few seconds. I report my attention to Sara who's still attentively focus on the window, but her fist is tightly clenched on her knee, while her jaw is firmly contracted. Whatever this case was it did not only affect Catherine.

"It was an apparently happy family…" Catherine goes on and for the first time Sara manifests herself with a light snort. "It was Sara…no matter what you think, they looked happy in all appearances," Catherine stresses out.

"Yeah, 'appearances', that's the key word," Sara says with a cold voice

"You know what? I don't…" Catherine snaps immediately before grunting in frustration, balling her fists. The last time I've seen her so tensed was when we tackled Holly Gibbs' case.

Catherine is the more expressive of the two. When she feels something she doesn't hold it back, she shows it openly. I wouldn't say she's completely in touch with her feelings because sometimes she'll feel out of her depth and won't be able to identify them so she'll channel them and turn them into anger. However sometimes she does bottle things up, she bottled up her guilt over holly's death for example. And apparently the case they've been working on has unscrewed the cap of one bottle, so to speak, yet she's trying to contain it.

There's a long silence, I know Sara won't talk unless I ask her something, but I can see that Catherine is struggling to find her footing again. "You were telling me about the case, Catherine," I encourage her.

"We arrive on the scene, the husband was dead, the wife was severely beaten, one kid was already at the hospital, one was missing, another was beaten but okay and Sara found the younger one in the closet covered with blood…" she pauses. "I've always found it surreal to watch inside people's house and see pictures of them happy at random occasions, and then facing reality and see everything…shattered," she pauses

"It was supposed to be a B&E which turned wrong…" she trails off and shakes her head.

This is probably the first time that I can see Catherine hiding in her shell.

"You…scared me," she suddenly whispers. It takes a few seconds to Sara to react but eventually she turns to Catherine with puzzlement. "Sara scared me," she repeats to my attention.

"I'm sorry, what? What are you talking about?" Sara asks calmly.

Once again Catherine's mind wanders off, it's almost like she wanted to avoid the subject but at the same time she was burning to talk about it. One thing for sure is that she's confused as to how to broach the subject.

"Catherine?" I call her when she hasn't spoken for two whole minutes. She looks at me with surprise, I think she had left the room for a moment. She obviously lost the thread of her thoughts. "What happened?"

She stares at me blankly first then eventually catches up. "A ten year old boy smashed the head of his father with a trophy…he did it with such a violence that there was barely any face left."

Even if I'm used to conceal my emotions, I can't help a slight subtle flinch. I cannot imagine what it was like to witness the result of such violence and its consequence.

I'm about to ask how they feel, but Catherine will most likely laugh at my face saying that this question is dumb, and Sara will use sarcasm before building up her walls again. I think for a moment and then decide to take another road to get to my point.

"You said earlier, that Sara scared you, what did you mean?"

"You scared me because for the first time you were considering breaking the rules…well, maybe not, but for the first time you voiced it. And coming from you it's scary…" she addresses Sara directly.

Sara doesn't answer, she just looks away, upset to be called on her weakness.

"Breaking the rules how?" I ask to no one in particular, hoping that Sara might open up even though I highly doubt it.

Catherine glances at Sara perhaps expecting the same from Sara as I do. But as always Sara confines herself in her muteness and bottles everything up inside.

"Well…we had evidences backing up Nathan's version. Nathan is the eldest brother and he was accusing himself to cover for his little brother. So…hum, so Sara considered, keeping it that way…"

"Oh and you didn't think about it?" Sara replies with irritation.

"Yes I did but…"

"So if you do think something like that it's ok, but if I do it's scary, is that it?"

"No…it's…" Catherine sighs.

"I'm human, surprise!" Sara states with sarcasm.

"Gee, I'm not making any reproach here and if you gave me a chance to explain myself…" Catherine struggles. "I'm not attacking you here."

"Right," Sara says defensively.

Well, there's obviously progress between them. At the beginning of our sessions months ago, they wouldn't have spoken to one another directly but rather used me as a mediator and they would have fought and drift back to old grudges. If Sara does taunt Catherine to fight in order to get rid of the attention, Catherine, though frustrated, tries calmly to express herself and her feelings.

"What I mean is that you… you set such a standard Sara that you're the last person to be expected to admit your empathy. You always seem to be able to put your feelings aside in order to keep a clear judgement."

"I'm a cold hearted person is that what you're trying to say?" Sara asks with an even voice.

"No! Why are you doing this?" Catherine replies finally catching on Sara's defense mechanism.

"What am I doing?"

"Provoking me."

"I'm not provoking you."

"Yes you are, you're twisting my words, it's like you wanted us to fight! I'm trying to communicate, to tell you how I feel…that's all."

Sara stares at Catherine with defiance but slowly I can see her body language shifting a little, conceding the point to Catherine and accepting the fact that she's cornered right now, so her only way out is to face the issue. She sighs before composing herself again.

"When I listen to you, it sounds like what you're saying is that I'm cold hearted."

"I'm not, and I know you're not. It's just that…when we work…yes sometimes you're hot tempered, but you always 'seem' to be able to draw the line. So yes, hearing you considering tampering a file was scary."

"Fine, I don't always voice it but I have feelings, me too I feel revulsion to have to witness so much cruelty and barbarism…I just prefer to deal with my emotions on my own and not spill them for everyone to see that yes I can feel."

Sara's voice is firm and if there's still lingering anger in it it's not as pronounce as earlier.

"Against all appearance there's a warm beating heart in my chest, and if it's the first time I admit the desire to make what seems right and not what is just, it's not the first time I thought about it," Sara goes on. "Maybe you put me on some kind of pedestal, if it's the case then now is the time to put me at everyone's level. I know interaction is not my strong suit but you can say you know me a little now, enough to know those things by yourself."

Catherine nods her assent to this statement.

I think we just made history between them. They avoid a fight and spoke openly, well, Sara opposed resistance but still it's there, they've talked without any preliminary fight. Of course we're not out of the wood yet, but it's a damn fine step in the right direction.

I give them so time in case they'd like to add something. When they don't make any signs of speaking any moment soon I speak again.

"Is that all that scared you?"

"No," Catherine answers quietly. "Her…behaviour during the investigation scared me."

"What do you mean?" Sara repeats her previous question.

"You always get so affected when it comes to domestic violence…"

"Oh, well excuse me to be sensitive! I'll remember to jump and down with joy next time we have a case of physical abuse," Sara says with evident irony.

"You always have this… It's like those case were flipping a switch of some kind with you…you are bellicose, overaggressive, blind-sighted…you have a vigilante like attitude when it comes to domestic violence."

Sara is holding back from responding and just shakes her head.

Having read Sara's file, I spot the issue or at least its context immediately. We just took a step forward but I think we're about to take one back right now.

"I know you guessed it right this time but…" Catherine continues.

"I didn't guess Catherine, it was obvious," Sara replies firmly.

"No it wasn't! That's the point! You jumped onto the domestic abuse conclusion almost as soon as we talked to Nathan!" Catherine explodes. "And no matter what you say I refuse to believe, like you, that the evidence of a good, perfect and happy family are the tell tale signs that something ugly is beneath the surface! I refuse to believe that because I know it's not true. Sure no family is truly perfect, but whether you like it or not there are families out there in appearance almost perfect and happy who are, beneath the surface, almost perfect and happy. I know we see the darkest part of human beings, but I also know there's still some real good out there."

"If you say so Catherine," Sara replies with a jaded tone.

"Why is it so hard for you to admit it?" Catherine keeps on her tracks but Sara ignores her question. Catherine's frustration comes out as a grunt and she just shakes her head at Sara's muteness.

They both stay silence for over three minutes, just when I decide to take the lead once again, Catherine speaks.

"You always take it to a personal level. It's like the Melton case, that day you accused me openly to let my sexuality cloud my judgement because I refused the tests you wanted to do on Andrew Melton's wife."

Catherine struck a nerve, Sara's posture which was semi relaxed switch back to full defensive.

"She was obviously victim of abuse," Sara's voice is sharp, whatever happened, it's still an open wound it would seem. "And you just ignored it."

"I was there Sara! I was there and I saw her with my own two eyes, there were no signs of abuse whatsoever."

"As I said, there were none that we could se but there were signs," Sara answers with a clenched jaw.

"See?! That's what I'm saying even when you can't back up your suspicion you can't let go! So I reiterate my question, every time we get a case with a hint of domestic violence or abuse, you go off the deep end. What is your problem?"

"My problem Catherine is that…"

"Don't tell me I'm letting my sexuality cloud my judgement because that record is broken, come up with something better, I don't know, maybe the truth for change."

"And you're not looking for a fight right now, right?"

Catherine bites her lips and raises her hands in surrender, holding herself back rather than taking the bait. "I'm just stating a fact. The Melton case is a proof of your 'almost out of control' behaviour with cases like those."

"Whatever Catherine."

"Answer me," Catherine doesn't let Sara's dismissal sidetrack her. "Why is it so personal to you?"

"Sara?" I push her a bit, backing up Catherine.

Sara's head snaps in my direction, she's sending me a dark look, silently threatening me to back off or else.

"I've been beaten black and blue Sara, I know what a hidden bruise looks like, I was married to Eddie and he didn't go easy at all, so trust me I know abuse."

"Eddie never exactly qualified into the 'smart men' category," Sara says quietly.

"I know the signs Sara, and just because I've been beaten, it doesn't make me suspect domestic abuse every time a couple is under investigation."

Sara is adopting her best defense strategy: silence.

"Sara, do you feel that you're going off the deep end when confronted to a case of domestic violence or abuse?" I ask her deciding against letting her retreat into her shell.

"Don't do that," she warns me with a low tone.

"I'm just asking you a question Sara."

She's heaving slowly, her fist are tightly balled, signs that she starts to feel entrap.

Sara has a quiet personality but latently violent. If she feels threatened, cornered she will react with violence physical or verbal. Catherine is like a barrel of gun powder, if you play with a match with her you're going to make her explode. Sara is more like an unpredictable, unstable solution, sometimes you shake it and nothing happens but other time the slightest movement has disastrous outcome.

"Do you feel that …"

"No," she cuts me off, if looks could kill I'd be a dead man.

Catherine laughs bitterly. "Right."

"I don't…"

"You're not taking it personally, that's why we have to rely on your super instincts and guessing power…"

"Shut up…" Sara's voice is quiet but hardly controlled.

"You don't change attitude at all, it's just pms…"

"Shut up," Sara repeats firmly, she's so tensed that she's starting to shake.

"You don't jump at the throat of men you consider abusive even in the absence of evidence…"

"Shut up!" Sara snaps loudly and stands up, startling Catherine.

Catherine is taken aback by Sara's sudden reaction, but she gets over her surprise quickly and though she's adopted a wise attitude lately I know she's about to fall back into her hold habits and push Sara's buttons when she should back off.

"Oh, did touch a nerve?" Catherine smirks.

"Shut up!!" Sara says more aggressively.

"What's wrong Sara? Having a hard time to take the truth in?"

"Shut up, shut up…"

Catherine keeps on, ignoring Sara. "For someone of your conversational skills, this is quite pathetic. I'm asking one simple question, so answer me. What's your problem with domestic abuse? Have you been abused? Do you have some one close to you who's been abused?"

"SHUT UP!" Sara explodes.

"Answer me Sara and I'll shut up, why is it that you go off deep end?"

I stood up a minute ago, I'm afraid Sara might get physically violent. She's obviously unstable right now, her lack of vocabulary lets me know that she's not handling this aggression at all.

"Catherine, that's enough," I step in.

"No, I want an answer. So go on Sara and tell me why it ticks you off that much?" she snaps at me before pushing Sara again. Sara's heaving and now the only answer coming from her is a grunt through her clenched teeth.

"Catherine…" I'm about to ask her to back off again but she cuts me off.

"No!" she states firmly. "Go fuck yourself, alright! I'm sick and tired of this! How come I'm always the only one to make effort and expose myself? How come you push me to answer but when it comes to her you step off and force me to do the same? Fuck it! I'll stop when she'll start playing by the rules! You want me to back off, then tell her to answer!" she threats me.

I can't really blame Catherine, this was bound to happen. It is true, Sara always stays in her comfort zone, she always stays in control and if she ever gets into the centre of attention she centres the focus to Catherine. That's been the dynamic ever since our first session, she's always been the one in control. And until now Catherine hadn't picked up on it, but it would seem that things have changed.

"Answer me Sara."

Sara tries to walk away but Catherine steps in front of her, keeping her there. "No, you're done running away…we're going to talk this through whether you like it or not."

For a second I'm afraid of Sara's reaction, she's enraged, her anger is annihilating her rationality.

"Answer," Catherine repeats yet again.

Either Catherine doesn't realise how dangerous her position is or she doesn't care. Sara's clenching and unclenching her fists in a slow painful movement.

"Get out of my way, now," Sara finally says with a menacing voice.

"Or what?" Catherine defies her angrily. "You're going to hit me this time? Is that it?" Sara doesn't answer. "If you want to hit me, then go ahead, I told you Eddie beat me more than once so there's nothing I can't take from you. But I'm not letting you go until you give me an answer."

"Catherine, back off," I order firmly.

"You stay out of this!" she blows me off holding a finger in my direction but never leaving Sara's eyes.

After what seems an eternity Sara utters one word in a hateful whisper. "Joker."

Catherine snorts with a dark smirk "And she takes easy way out, yet again…how surprising," she declares before stepping asides.

Sara all but bolts out of the room, not before punching my door hard enough to leave such a deep dent in it that one would think it's made out of paper and not wood.

"Catherine, when I ask you to back off I'd like you to listen to me," I reprimand her.

"Screw that! You say we're here to work on our relationship but the truth is that 'we' are not doing anything, I'm the only one working here! All she ever does is getting away with everything, throwing a tantrum whenever she has to make a concession and hitting a wall just to show that she's pissed before running away."

She paces for a few seconds before grabbing her belongings and walking toward the door, she then turns around. "If this is how things are always going to be then consider me done with this joke of a therapy," she says with despise. "You know what?" she sighs. "Those weeks apart didn't make me hate you any less…it's the opposite actually," she shakes her head and slams the door close on her way out.

I put a hand on my forehead hand let it slide down, then I pinch the bridge of my nose and exhale deeply. For the very first time I find myself a little bit overwhelmed by the event. I've always known that these two would be a piece of work, but sometimes it feels that for every time they make progress, they take a huge leap back.

I have to admit that I might have been a bit 'protective' of Sara. They both have a temper, yes, but if I'm honest Sara's inability to control her bursts worries me, because if I know she's most likely to hurt herself, I also know that when under the influence of her emotions she's able to hurt those around her.

I go to sit down on my chair. Things will be even rougher now, unlike what Catherine thinks, Sara didn't take the easy way out, she could have run away in spite of the ultimatum that was imposed to her; Sara could have passed Catherine by easily instead she used a joker, meaning that she's exposing herself to the fact that she'll have to face the issue, should it ever comes back on the table.

Boy, I'm not really eager to have our next sessions.

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**I'm getting closer to Sara's past, slowly but surely, don't lose faith in me ;)**

**Thanks for reading**


	16. Chapter 16

**Well Mojo was on fire and I wrote a long chapter, in a short period of time - I pat myself on the back for this one. Thank you for your reviews, I'll never say it enough you make my day everytime. **

**Enjoy,**

**So ;)**

**ps: **Max** thanks for giving me your opinion it always matters and makes a difference. ;)**

freddie**, thanks for helping me finding what I was looking for ;)**

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**Chapter 16**

_Catherine's POV_

I'm looking at the barrel of a loaded gun, a loaded gun with the safety off. Cold sweat is running down my spine and my blood is overcharged with adrenaline.

"Marcus," I call the suspect calmly. "Put the gun down."

"I didn't kill anybody, I swear I didn't!"

"Nobody said you did anything wrong… put the gun down," I try to resonate.

"This is a lie and I know it!! You think I'm stupid?!" he snaps.

We arrived at a scene of homicide, a seventeen year old girl wounded twice to death with a gun. Marcus, also seventeen, is our primary suspect, but things turned for the worse when Officer Martin decided to rough Marcus up a little bit, assuming that Marcus was the culprit. Marcus lost it, he turned out to be faster and stronger than he looks because they fought and he took the gun before I could even reach mine. Now I am facing him, my back to our car while Martin is severely beaten and unconscious on the floor, trying to make him calm down before someone gets hurt.

Back up team arrived in the meantime, they are holding him in target behind their car, leaving me handling the situation, and holding their fire.

"No…Marcus, if you don't put the gun down you're going to be hurt, and I don't want that," I tell him.

"I'll kill you if they shoot me!" he spits obviously overwhelmed with panic.

"Marcus, they're not going to shoot you, but you have to put your gun down."

"Shut up!"

We've been trying to calm Marcus down for the past twenty minutes and if nothing he's become more agitated.

"I know what's going to happen…you won't ever believe me! Nobody will, they never do!"

"I don't have any reasons not to believe you Marcus, I'm sure you didn't do anything wrong…" I say firmly. "I believe you, I do."

"You think I killed Kristy, but I didn't!"

"I don't think you killed anyone."

"He said…he said that you'd lock me up!" Marcus refers to Martin.

Martin is a good officer but sometimes he's not good at dealing with either suspects or victims, sometimes his mouth put people in trouble and he doesn't always realises it. He's still a little rough around the edge and doesn't evaluate people's psychology fast enough to know when they are a threat, instable or fragile. Guess today was one of those times. He was over aggressive with Martin who claimed that he was innocent and things got out of hands.

"I don't want to lock you up. I want you to come with us and to tell us what happened, that's all Marcus, you got my word."

"I know what you think, that a guy like me…I must have touched her the wrong way…why was I there anyway…right?" he keeps on. "Right?!!"

I am scared out my mind right now, and I know I'm losing Marcus, he's about to lock himself in his mind.

"She's the most popular girl in school…why would she hang up with a freak like me right?!"

I take a deep breath to steel myself, panicking won't help me.

"Then talk to me Marcus, tell me what happened."

"She was my best friend…she…" he's starting to cry. "She was showing me the gun because it was some collection piece…she put it down on the table…" he chokes. "I didn't kill her…"

"Tell me who shot her."

"Nobody!"

"But she has two bullets in her chest Marcus…" I state. "Did you fight?"

I keep on making him talk just so he can also be reasonable again and put his weapon down.

"No!"

"Then how?"

"I was working on her computer tower…I was plugging wires and when I got up again I bumped onto the table…the gun fell and it went off…" he breaks down. "The fucking thing was loaded and we didn't know!..."

"She's been shot twice…" I mutter more to myself than to him but he hears me.

"I haven't touched that gun!!" he growls at me waving the gun in my direction. It was obviously the wrong time to have a reflection out loud.

"Alright, it's ok, I believe you… I was just thinking out loud," I explain myself.

"Liar!"

"Marcus I believe you! I do! And I want people to believe you too, I want to proof that you're telling the truth. That's why I need you to put down your gun and come with me, to write what you just told me down."

"I don't want to go to jail…" he begs.

"You're not going to go to jail, it was an accident, you didn't pull the trigger."

"No, I didn't," he echoes me.

"Marcus I don't want anything bad happening to you, that's why you need to give me the gun," I say with a steady voice.

"You promise you're not going to put me to jail right?"'

"You got my word Marcus, I promise."

He nods repeatedly, I can see in his eyes that he trusts me and has no intention to shoot. I take a step toward him slowly.

"It's going to be alright," I smile reassuringly.

He keeps on nodding and I keep on walking toward him. He's taller than me and fear makes me feel like a Lilliputian.

He raises his gun in a gesture that says 'here take it'. Suddenly a loud sound startles me, I feel hot spray covering me, I look down to see a red patch at my stomach level…

…That's odd I don't feel anything.

There's another sound before I can realise that Marcus is looking at me with surprise and gasping for air in a strange gargle. I'm at loss to understand what's happening, Marcus' eyes are trying to pop out of his skull while, after another sound, his blood comes splattering on my face. I'm sure I call his name but the last thing I see is the back of his head implodes, then a light flashes in front of me and I feel hot burn on my own head.

Then there's silence and everything's black…

A loud thumping is hitting my eardrum like crazy jackhammer.

My heartbeat…I'm not dead.

Sight comes back to me and I see Marcus on his knees staring at me with soulless, lifeless eyes. The picture is frying an imprint into my retinas, leaving a permanent scar on my memory.

Marcus body falls sideways on the ground. I realised that I'm on the ground as well, leaning against the truck behind me. Everything keeps on going into a slow motion for a little while. I look down and I'm covered in blood. I see a rush of feet filling my field of vision. I'm slowly getting aware of something hot dripping from my head and an ardent fire on my skin.

I feel like falling at high speed when sounds, smells and sensations wash over me all the sudden.

"…what the fuck?!! Didn't I order to hold your fire?..." shouts a voice with a thick Scottish accent.

"I thought he was about to shoot her…" a younger voice states.

"…You had order god fucking damn it!! What part of 'hold your fire' is it that you don't get?! Why did you go around the house solo to start with?! Where the bloody hell do you think you are kid?!"

My eyes fall back on Marcus.

Marcus…

I promised everything would be alright… I promised.

I try to move myself as well as I can but for some odd reason I feel like I was in a body I don't know. I crawl to Marcus and check his pulse, even though I know I won't find any.

"I'm sorry…" I mutter.

"Catherine? Catherine, are you alright?" the Scottish voice asks me. The familiar face of Fitzgerald 'Fitz' MacMillan appears in front of me, for some reason my mind stops at his red – almost carrot like – hair and eyebrow, his rough stubble contrasting with his boyish feature…his piercing blue eyes looking at me with worry.

"Your head's bleeding…looks like it just grazed you but…are you alright?" he keeps on, funny how his accent is always thicker according to his emotions.

My eyes trail back to Marcus and unadulterated rage fuels my veins like a searing hot wave extracting me from my shock haze. A new strength possesses me and I stand up steadily, my heart is pounding fiercely in my chest and I ball my fists tightly to stop the shaking.

"Who opened fire? Who's the jerk who opened fire?" I ask with a dangerous tone.

"Hey I save your life lady, least you can do is to thank me!" a young overconfident cop spits at me.

"James, keep your mouth shut! You've done enough already!" Fitz warns him.

"At least _I_ did my job!"

Without even thinking I walk to him and punch him with all the blunt force I can gather, he's so surprised that he loses his balance. My fist and wrist are hurting as hell, but that pain it's probably the only thing holding me from cutting his balls before shooting him myself.

"You're a fucking crazy bitch!" he barks as he gets back on his feet at the second. His fellow officers hold him back, while Fitz gets on my way, I don't move and keep staring at officer James as if I could kill him with my only eyes. "He shot you! I saved your life!! Ungrateful bitch!"

"You just shot an innocent seventeen year old boy, and doing that you endanger me and your fellow officers!…" I yell with wrath.

"That scumbag was about to shoot you!"

"You shooting him made his hand contract on a death reflex you fucking moron!" I cover his voice. "You never shoot at a suspect who's holding someone in his line of fire unless they are on the clear! That is the lesson 101 of 'how to handle a crisis situation'!! This is not a fucking TV show and you are no fucking hero!" I reprimand him violently.

In spite of Fritz holding me back I'm pointing my finger in the face of officer James.

"This boy has a name and it's Marcus! And for the records he was handing me his gun over!" I keep shouting. "Congratulation officer James, you've got the blood of an innocent man on your hands, the reward of the hero," I finish with despite.

My words seem to finally sink in and his confidence disappears quickly has he understands the situation.

"I thought…" he starts.

"You're a rookie, you are not to think, but to learn and follow orders," I cut him off, before shaking my head.

I can see him wishing to get back in time and rethink his decision, but it's too late now. One more overzealous officer, too eager to prove himself who ends up playing cowboy, understanding all too late that this is real life, and that here there's no such thing as a second chance when the bullet hit the target.

"I'm sorry…" he says after a while, finally grasping the depth of his faulty judgement.

Sure, I could cut him some slack and back up… I could give him the fact that he thought he was doing right, but he had orders and there were officers behind me aiming at Marcus, they would have taken the shot themselves long before anything happened to me.

I snort bitterly. "Don't apologize to me, apologize to _him_, cowboy!" I mutter aggressively and point Marcus body before walking away.

As I turn around I see the impact hole of the bullet that grazed my temple on the main body of my truck. The iron taste of blood becomes suddenly too vivid in my mouth. I run away to the sidewalk on the other side just in time before my stomach lurches.

I heave uncontrollably, as I lean on my knees. Steady, gentle hands hold my hair and rub my back in a comforting gesture.

"Oy! What the fuck are you looking at!" Fitz shouts at probably some of his men looking at me puking my guts, surely thinking that I'm the typical example of weakness and of why women shouldn't be in the force. Lucky me some of them, like Fitz, knows better.

You can be tough as steel, but if you feel death's breath on you, adrenaline crash will be just as much as a tough cruel bitch to everyone.

"Don't you feel like you have a bloody scene to take care of?!" Fitz goes on. "Get going then! I'm warning you the next one to fart without my say so, I'll bring them closer to God," he says firmly.

If I wasn't in physical pain I might have laugh to his trademark expression.

I try to calm myself, but the vision of blood all over me isn't helping.

"Take it easy sweet pea, take your time, yeah?" he says with a soft voice which is at the extreme opposite of the tone he used a second ago. I've always found it a bit comical that he always sounds like he's asking a question.

He lets me compose myself on my own terms, not rushing me, not judging me, just being there. After several minutes I finally straighten myself up and turn to him. He steps away from me for a moment, goes to his car and brings me a bottle of water which I take gladly. I wash my mouth from the bitter taste first then drink a bit. Fitz reached down one of his pocket and extracts his pack of cinnamon/mint flavoured gums – once again his trademark, and offers me two tablets.

I'm really grateful that he's there right now, because I'm not sure I would have handled this display of weakness well otherwise.

He then steps closer to me and frame my face delicately in his hands, making sure to avoid my bloody spot. "It's alright," he tells me with his eyes firmly locked with mine. He does manage to reassure me a bit. "You think you can hold up, yeah?"

"Yeah," I answer after a few seconds.

He nods. "Bus' going to be there in a min, once they patch you up we get back to business, right?" he says softly.

"Okay."

"Reckon, you want me to give you some space?"

"I'd appreciate that."

He leans in and kisses my forehead in a brotherly love kind of fashion, before trying to convey me some silent support just with his eyes. Then when he's sure I'll be fine, he lets go of my face and walk away to join his team and supervise everything.

xxxxx

I'm banging on the door in front of me with so much violence that I think the palm of my hand might get through the other side of the massive wood. The door opens suddenly leaving me with my hand up in mid-motion.

"What the hell did my door do to you?" Sara asks without any anger.

I don't bother answering and make my way inside, she observes me silently, I know she's a bit surprised by my behaviour, if the fact that she's holding her door open still for a few more seconds before closing it and locking it again is anything to go by.

We haven't spoken nor seen each other since we left Adam's office two days ago. The sight of her unleashes my emotions, like some kind of whirlwind was unfolding inside of me, turning everything upside down. She looks at me blankly, waiting for me to explain my presence I suppose.

Next thing I know, I'm pinning firmly her against her door, kissing her feverishly, my hands sneaking under her t-shirt, feeling her hot smooth skin, digging my nails in the small of her back while pushing a leg between hers. She moans in my mouth and responds to my kiss with just as much violence, letting her body react to my touch.

Eventually though she pushes me away gently. She breaks our kiss and looks at me, I put my fingers on her lips to stop her from talking. I know she's about to ask me what's going on, if I'm ok and say that we should talk this through but I don't want that. I want her…I _need _her to make me feel grounded again.

She understands me silent plea and lets go as I urgently kiss her again. Not wanting to break the kiss to undress her I pull her shirt in opposing direction, tearing it apart, she doesn't make any signs to care about it and just wiggles herself out of the remaining piece, still kissing me, before wrapping her arms around me again.

The harder I kiss her the wilder she gets, she takes the lead moving us from the door to the nearest wall. I want more, more of her skin, more of her passion, more of everything; my own flesh is burning through my clothes.

She seems to be unable to focus on what to do, undressing me, kissing me, touching me or moving us. She decides to lift me up, I enfold my legs around her waist as she carries me across her apartment, to her bedroom. She puts me down gently and then focuses on getting me out of my shirt. It turned out to be difficult since one of her hand is already under my layer of clothe while the other can't stick to the task and touch my neck and newly exposed skin at each buttons popping open. Patience not being my strong suit my hands leave her warm skin to rip the shirt open, sending buttons flying around, only then does Sara focuses properly and pushes my shirt along my arms caressing them in the process, before getting rid of my bra.

The bottom parts are out of the way faster, Sara had actually worked the problem while in her indecision. She propels us both on her bed, her on top of me, kissing, touching, biting, nibbling, caressing, possessing my body.

Her embrace, her gestures are driven by an urgency only equalled by mine. It's like she was fuelling a fire raging in me, like she was the only one to be able to nourish it.

Suddenly my emotions escape my grip and become tenfold. I see a flash of light but there's no pleasure there, just pain and fear. The smell of blood is floating in the air and I feel nausea building up in me.

Sara picks up on my uneasiness immediately and stops all her movements. She's looking at me with great concern and is about to ask me what's wrong and if she hurt me. I can't speak, but I kiss her and shake my head slightly to let her know that she hasn't done anything wrong. We were on a sitting position and she takes me in her arms, holding me to her fiercely, caressing my hair in a soothing gesture as I start sobbing like a baby. She doesn't say anything just holds me.

I takes me several minutes to completely calm down, she just pushes us into a lying position, holding me as close to her as humanly possible, if I'm not sobbing anymore, tears are still running down my cheeks silently.

In this odd intimacy we are sharing, both naked, in each other's arms, I feel strangely safe.

xxxxx

I wake up with a start, I look at my hands, I swear I can see red liquid staining them. I bring one hand to my left temple where lies a fresh soon to be scar, I twitch a bit when my fingertips brush the stitches.

I force my mind to leave the haunting face of Marcus in the darkness of my nightmare. I put a hand on the empty space besides me, it's cold already. I'm only covered with the bed sheet, I scan the room and I see a shirt on one chair. I get out of bed and put it on, immediately the scent of Sara fills my nostrils. The shirt looks big on me, it's so big that the hem is touching the top of my kneecap. I spot my panties on the floor and put them on before walking to the living room as I close three buttons of the shirt.

Sara's sitting on the floor like a child, wearing one of her oversize batman shirt and a pair of shorts, leaning against one of her armchairs. Why she's not sitting on the armchair is a mystery to me. She's looking at the window, muffled voices are coming out from a radio…no a police scanner. I walk silently to her and sit at her sides. I know she felt my presence as soon as I stepped into the room, but she decided not to let that knowledge tear her apart from her contemplation of the city.

I gather my legs to my chest and circle them with my arms, then let my chin rest on my knees.

"Do I snore that bad for you to always runaway from your own bed when I sleep over?" not that I've slept over that many times.

She pouts a bit and shrugs. "The snoring is okay, but the dribbling…hmm…not so much" she winces.

"I do not dribble."

She snorts, "Oh yeah, you would know," she chuckles. I punch her in the shoulder. "Gee… where's the love?" she asks in mock pain.

"Right now, it's out the window!" I reply firmly before shaking my head and rolling my eyes.

We stay silent and watch the city together, Sara's apartment is almost on the top floor of the building so she has a nice view of Vegas. From afar, Sin City is beautiful, almost graceful as long as you can't make out the very details of it.

"So…I did chase you away…" I state.

"Nah, it wasn't you."

"Insomnia?"

"Bad dreams," she replies after a long hesitation. "I guess they make me insomniac in a way…not that I ever was a heavy sleeper anyway."

I nod silently, I know that I haven't slept for the past two days, ever since Marcus got shot, every time I close my eyes I see his face, his panic, fearful and confuse expression. I see him spitting blood and then I see him on his knees his eyes blankly staring at me as life had deserted him.

I haven't been able to think about anything else. Guys asked me if I was okay, Nancy…everyone.

For the first time I couldn't fine any semblance of comfort with them. Somehow they couldn't reach me, it took me quite a while to understand what was off. I wanted Sara to comfort me, I wanted to tell Sara everything, I wanted to be in her quiet presence. I don't know if it's a result from the therapy but I know I can only be completely vulnerable with her, for some reason she appears as the closest living human being to me. It's ironic when you think that even though we've gotten closer we're still partially strangers.

That's why I came to her place earlier…

She doesn't ask questions, she understands when I don't want her to ask questions. She understands me, or at least sometimes she does. It's strange the way we can communicate so easily and yet being so bad at talking to one another.

"It was the first time I was held at gunpoint," I start. I've found myself in a lot of dangerous situation over the years I've been working this job, but I've never seen the cannon of a gun so close before. I see her frowning but she doesn't look at me. "This crime scene was nothing but a sequence of poor judgements and bad decisions…" I start.

I tell in detail what happened finally taking everything off my chest. Sara just listens, she doesn't say anything even when I struggle with my words, she lets me recount everything at my pace.

"A part of me feels terrible for hitting him…that kid, James, he has the fever for the job, he takes pride in it. But he was overzealous… he didn't analyze the situation, he just…went over the head of Fitz, thinking that it was his time to shine… one innocent life had to be taken away for him to understand that you can't take initiative unless you've evaluate the situation before hand under every possible angles …" I shake my head.

"I know I should blame Marcus, after all he was the one pointing a gun at me. But try as I might I can't. Because I know it was an accident, I know that the gun did went off on it own when it touched the floor, that a bullet had been previously stuck half way through the chamber, so that when the gun went off two bullets were expelled instead of one. I know that Martin's behaviour was inappropriate. I know that James should have followed his order, that he should have ensured a warning to Marcus before opening fire…I know…" I choke with emotions. "I know that neither of those kids should have died that night… it's so fuck up!...such a mess, it's…it's so not fair!"

"It never is," Sara finally says when she senses that I'm done.

She's looking at me with that quiet stillness that it typically hers, as weird as it sounds it's like she could speak louder while being silent, like her eyes only could tell me all those reassuring words I need to here, give me the feeling of understanding I'm craving for.

She lifts her hand and runs the tip of her finger above my wound, gently touching the bruised skin.

"I was scared out of my mind…" I confess in a whisper. "You want to know something weird?" I ask rhetorically. "I didn't think about Lindsey or anybody else when I was staring at the gun…I was thinking about not losing it, about not shitting my pants, about avoiding things to turn wrong…" I snort humourlessly. "Some mother I am," I shake my head again.

"Well… on the plus side you're good at being human," she provides with a shrug. Had it come from anybody I think I would have been a bit offended because she said that with so much detachment that you'd think she doesn't give a damn about my distress. But coming from her, as curious as it is, it does sound comforting.

"I couldn't stand the attention of the other because it felt like they were close and yet so far from me, like they wouldn't be able to…that they couldn't possibly understand. I know it's ridiculous because we've all been through tough crap at one point or another, they'd understand better than anyone who's not on the job…only for the first time…as odd as it seems, I felt like you were the only one who could get me…" I mumble that last part.

"One of the lovely side effect of therapy," she replies. "It alienates you from people…you spend so much time being emotionally unstable in my presence that in the end it feel safer to keep it that way, even outside of the session…it's all about balance."

I raise my eyebrows and nod my head at her explanation, funny how I hadn't seen it under this light.

"Watch out, you're going all Adam on me," I warn her.

She look at me with a rise eyebrow, she smile enough to show the lucky gap between her teeth and chuckle. "Nice one."

"Thank you," I grin. "I thought so myself."

Silence falls upon us one more time. I find Sara's silence comforting, it's the first time I've ever found silence comforting.

I can't believe I'm sitting on the floor of Sara's living room, wearing one of her shirts and my panties and yet I don't feel like freaking out. Somehow, the weirdest things seem perfectly normal when I'm in presence of Sara.

A loud growl resounds in the silence. I close my eyes and wince, trust my body to embarrass me.

Sara's looking at me with utter surprise. "Wow," she snorts. "Who would have thought such a tiny woman could hide a whole family of wild bears in her tummy."

I punch her shoulder one more time. "Who you're calling tiny?" I feint anger.

"One would thought you'd deny the 'family bear' part."

"You want to know what my 'tummy bears' and I tell you right now?"

She laughs softly before getting up. She goes on the kitchen side of her island and start getting ready to cook. I take a deep breath and her scent that is still lingering on the shirt I'm wearing, makes me light-headed. I feel something shifting inside me, like an unexplainable hot billow of raw, carnal desire crashes in my entire body. This desire is so sudden, so powerful that I'm literally driven by it as I stand up and walk to the island.

I watch Sara moving in her kitchen and for a second I feel like I had mastered supervision because through her t-shirt I can see the muscles of her back twitching at each of her movements. I'm the predator watching her prey, anticipating the feeling I'd get to capture my target.

"I'm hungry," I state with a grave voice that I've never heard before.

Sara doesn't turn around and keep doing whatever it is she's doing as she answers. "My hands might be skilled but they need time to work their magic," she chuckles.

I quietly advance to her until my body is touching her back, she stills herself immediately, her hands on her countertop. I slip my hands under her shirt and run them slowly from her hips to her stomach, I can feel her sighing at the sensation. Without completely breaking the contact I move in front of her a position myself between her arms.

We stare at each other, her usually warm chocolate brown eyes are darker; her cool demeanour contrasts with the latent raging fire I know is burning inside of her. I let one of my hands going down and resting on her warm core, her eyelids close themselves halfway slowly at the sensation and sighs slowly but shakily.

"I am _hungry_," I repeat with my eyes still deeply into hers. For a moment I swear I can see the same carnal desire slowly building up in her. I lean in slowly, my parted lips brush hers without actually kissing her. Our hot breaths mingle and her lips move to catch mine but I avoid the full contact. We play cat and mouse – no pun intended, for a few more seconds before our lips collide in a passionate kiss.

I moan in her mouth, holding onto her firmly, one of my hands grips a handful of her hair, while I use the other to keep my body as close to hers as possible. I suck on her bottom lip before biting it. She groans and pulls back, I just give her a feral grin in response, she kisses me even harder and grabs my ass in a firm grasp before grinding my body against her leg.

She focuses on my neck, biting, nibbling on my flesh all the while making my hips move against her. I can't do anything but hold on her tightly. My hands go under her shirt and my nails digging deep in her back before racking down her shoulder blades as a deep throaty moan escape me. One of her hands unbutton my shirt before caressing breasts. Her movements are rough yet without ever be on the wrong side of painful.

I dig my nails deeper in her flesh as she speeds the motion of my hips against her leg and put more pressure against my centre. It's only minutes before I spasm uncontrollably against her, tightening our embrace.

I don't have the time to adjust or to get my breathing at a normal pace that she's kissing me again still with the same urgency. This time she lifts me up and makes sure I hook my legs around her waist. She moves us to the living room and drops me onto the couch, then in a swift move she gets rid of her t-shirt. As soon as I'm lying down, her mouth is kissing my chest, drawing the curves of my breasts, I can't help the twitch of my stomach when her lips tease the flesh down there, her hands are roaming down, taking my panties off…yet again.

My breath get caught in my throat when I feel her hot velvety tongue in me, I see stars, I can't breathe, I want more…

I move my hips, arch my back and throw my head back at the extreme pleasure she's eliciting in me. I give up trying to conceal my moans, one of my hands is holding the couch in a death hold while the other is on her shoulder, making sure she doesn't even think about going anywhere.

I feel like she had just set my whole body on fire. She has a movement of her tongue that makes me go berserk, I convulse violently in sheer ecstasy.

My heart is still beating unsteadily and erratically when I feel her pushing her fingers in me, her mouth sucking greedily on my clit, then she kisses her way up my body while moving hard in me…

She grabs a handful of my hair, I open my eyes and lock them with hers for a few seconds before closing them at the sensual delectation vibrating through me. Sara kisses me fiercely with an ardour such that I feel like she's about to devour me. She's moving hard at a staccato rhythm, I spade my nail deeply to her back and she grunts into my mouth before deepening her movement. As she feels me close to the edge she bites me hard on the neck, the vivid pain is equalled by a powerful rapture when she curls up her fingers in me. My nails slope against her skin violently, I choke with pleasure before letting out a deep loud moan as my body is shaking forcefully.

Our heartbeats mingle against our chests, I wish that I could literally have her under my skin. I jerk a bit when she retreats from me and lessen the pressure of her teeth against my skin. I relax slowly, unclasping my hands and let my head fall back with exhaustion. Her rickety breathing matches my own, her lips are slightly parted against my skin and she stays like this for a moment. Then she lets herself fall on the floor in the space between the couch and the coffee table.

She pleased me stupid…good heavens…

It takes me several minutes before being able to speak, but my breathing, though regular, is still heavy.

"Sar…" I breathe out.

"Yeah…"

"I'm hungry…"

"…you better be talking about food 'cause otherwise you'll be out of luck…" she pants.

I can't help chuckling, I don't think I'd be able to take any more physical exertion right now anyway.

My stomach growls even louder than before as if to prove my point. I hear Sara sighing below me. "Alright, hold your tummy bears down..." she says before getting herself up. As she picks her t-shirt up I can see the angry red lines I've left with my nail contrasting with her light complexion.

She goes in the bathroom to freshen herself then goes back in her kitchen. I for my part go take a quick shower. I put on another of Sara's shirt, enjoying her scent as I walk back to the kitchen.

When I arrive there's a plate of steaming food waiting for me. I seat at the table in front of Sara and we start eating quietly. It's funny how things quickly change between us, it's always been like this. Take right now for example, we've just had wild sex and yet it's like nothing ever happened.

"How do you deal with it?" I ask suddenly.

"Deal with what?"

"The bad dreams…the bad case…" I shrug.

"One day at the time. They never fully go but with time you handle them better."

"How? How can I ever handle the image of his dead stare or the feeling of his blood covering me?"

"You hold on to the people, the things that make you grounded, that remind you that there's still some good out there. You learn from that case. I might sound cold to you, but that's the only way to deal with it. There's a lesson to be learned and never forgotten. Use this experience as a drive to do better. If you let the distress, the guilt, if you dwell on what you should have done or said, all of it will eat at you then you'll burn yourself," she states. "There's nothing you can do to bring Marcus back to life, however you can make sure to try your damnest for it never to happen again."

I nod silently. "It's not really comforting," I inform her. Actually I feel like I was hearing myself talking.

"That's the best I got."

We keep eating silently, I let her words sinking in. Like I said it isn't comforting but at the same time it doesn't make me feel bad. She just gave me a little push, a guideline to find my way out of the dark place I'm currently in. Now that I think about it, it is kind of comforting in a 'Sara-ish' kind of way. I look at Sara and for some reason I think about a story I've been told once… I can't for the life of me remember the detail or the punch line of the story but I know with absolute clarity that Sara makes me think about that particular story.

I put that thought aside and decide to take my mind of things. I chuckle as a thought crosses me mind. "Speaking of bad dreams…I have to blame you for the creepiest dream I've been having."

"Oh, right blame it on me," she rolls her eyes. "What have I done this time?"

"You remember thinking that Griss and me were getting hot and dirty…well in that dream or nightmare…"

"Oh, okay, okay, not while I'm eating," she laughs softly.

"Yeah well at least you don't have the images in your brain," I add before joining her laughter.

I hear her sighing once her laughter subsides. "It happened once a long time ago…he was different then, more relax and…I don't know, different…we had this thing this…connection…it went as far as a few dates and some flirting…nothing more…I wasn't emotionally distraught afterward…it took me to come here to work with him to understand that it was a purely intellectual thing…a bad case of student worship I suppose…"

It takes my brain a moment to understand what she's talking about, but my smile and mood slump as the meaning of her words finally registers in. I feel like she had just given me a punch in the guts. I'm staring blankly at her then blink slowly and stand up before retreating hastily in her bedroom.

I start to put my pants back on hurriedly and gather my scattered clothes. I see her in the threshold when I move around making sure I'm not forgetting anything. "I'll give you back your shirt later," I simply state before passing her by and walking back into her living room.

"Uh… would you mind filling me in on what just happened?" she frowns.

"There was and will never be anything between me and Grissom," I quote with an unpleasant voice. "Those were your exact words, does it ring any bell yet?" I spit.

I feel so angry right now, I don't think I've ever been that mad at her in all the years we've known each other.

"You lied to me…" I elaborate and she just stands there in front of me with her typical jaded expression. "What's more, you lied when we were in session! You lied in the only place we have to…_have to_ be honest!"

"You're over reacting, things were different then."

"I'm over reacting?" I repeat with disbelief.

"Catherine it's not…"

"What? It's not like that? It's not what I think?"

She sighs and throws one hand in the air with a shrug as if to say there's no use to talk to me.

"Right now, I feel like you've been fucking me over for the past six months and a half, which you might have done, because now I don't know if you've ever been honest to begin with!" I shout.

She doesn't say anything and her impassivity just aggravates my irritation. I want to shake her senseless, I want to scream…I just…fuck it.

I shake my head and snort bitterly, I walk out of her apartment and slam the door on my way out.

I'm hurt, as much as I hate to admit it I am hurt. How wonderful, now we don't even have to fight to hurt each other, her simple silence can do the job. Thank you so fucking much Adam…

How is it that things never stop to be messed up when it comes to us? I mean every time I believe things couldn't get any messier…one of us proves me wrong. Obviously I've underestimated our destructive potential.

xxxxx

I open my door reluctantly after debating with myself for two long minutes. Sara's silhouette invades my field of vision as I move the door around its hinges. She's standing with her hands in her pocket, a little wet from the short trip from her car to my front door since it's pouring rain. I stare at her silently, my anger hasn't worn off yet, even though it's been three days already.

"You missed therapy," she states.

"Yeah, thanks for the info," I reply flatly. "I didn't really feel like being fed with your bullshit today," I grin falsely.

She sighs loudly. "I deserve that…"

"A good thing you're shrew."

"Do you need me to give you five minute to spit your venom?"

"I don't think you're in position to be a smartass right now!" I reply between my teeth.

"I'm not here to fight with you, if you don't want to talk fine, but at least listen…please."

"Whatever," I sigh.

She rolls her eyes and collects her thought before speaking. "I've only been dishonest with you twice."

"Are you giving me a real number or just a vague estimation."

I can see her contracting her jaw, but she decides to let it slide. "Things were different. And telling you the truth would have been like giving you a knife to stab me in the back later."

She laughs hollowly. "It's funny how you always believe to be the only one to make sacrifice here, the only one susceptible to be hurt. Damn it…everything I told in session…every confession was a knife offered to you!"

"I'd never use anything against you!"

"But I would? Because I'm such a heartless bitch, right?" I state with cold anger.

"I didn't trust you!"

"I don't want sound alarming, but you're not making things any better, right now," I tell her with sarcasm.

"Go on and tell me you were 100 per cent honest at the time, you know that will be a lie. And it's alright because it was the beginning. I didn't give you any more reason to trust me than you gave me to trust you," I'm about to protest but she keeps on. "Don't get me wrong, I'm not here to set the record straight. I'm just explaining why I contorted the truth. But that was then, now it's different."

She looks away and sighs before returning her attention to me. "I'm not saying I trust you completely, but I do trust you more than I ever did before," she says honestly. "We've moved on, we've made progress…and I don't want to lose that…" she trails of. "That's why I'm here, begging you…please forgive me"

I am angry but…I hear what she's saying and yeah…she's not completely wrong about not trusting each other at the beginning. Yet it still hurts.

"You said you've lied twice, what was the second thing?"

She soughs and looks at her feet before looking at me again. "Adam's my number seven…also it is the first time I do it with someone."

Well, that would explain a few things.

"Please…I'll get on my knees if I have to."

I sigh deeply. "I understand where you're coming from…but I might need a little time to swallow that pill properly."

"I'm patient."

"You know…I don't have the strength to go back to what things used to be either," I confess. "If you lie to me again…"

"Like I said, that was then and this is now..."

I nod silently, I do acknowledge the effort she made to come here and apologize but a part of me is a bit apprehensive, I'm just beginning to realise that now every set back is less and less bearable.

The question is to know how much more set backs I can handle.

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**...I should have put a warning to let you know that Mojo wasn't the only one on fire :P**

**That's it folks, the lesson of the day was that lies always catch up with you, so the best policy stays the honesty :P...meh...and to think that I'm the one to clean the mess...not fair I haven't done anything :(**

**Alrighty, I'm going to try my best not to take long for the next chap. **

**Thanks for reading**


	17. Chapter 17

**Hi everybody, first and foremost, thank you very much for your reviews :). Then Mojo is still on fire, obviously, so here's a new chap.**

**Enjoy,**

**So ;)**

**ps:** Max** thank you for giving me your opinion :)**

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**Chapter 17**

"Catherine, welcome back," I greet her as Sara and her enter my office. She missed our last session, curiously though, I had thought that Sara would have been the one to pull something like that. Or at least I thought Sara would have been the first to do it.

"Yeah, thanks," she shrugs before sitting down.

They get into their routine, meaning, Catherine retrieves a bottle of water from the fridge while Sara just focuses on her window.

They spend the next five minutes in utter silence, except for the sound of my pen scribbling on paper.

Catherine sighs. "I'm angry because… Sara lied to me."

"Explain the point of talking about an issue we've already dealt with?" Sara asks calmly but obviously exasperated.

"Because try as I might I'm not over it, and I remember telling you that I'd need time to deal with it, so the issue is still there even though we've talked about it."

"Ok, fine, whatever," Sara surrenders with a shrug.

"No, don't do this, please," Catherine pleas softly.

"Do what?"

"Claming up. I want _us_ do discuss this."

"Well go ahead since you're the one to bring this up. I've already explained myself but if you want to do it here again, let's do it again."

"I'm going to ask a question first if you don't mind," I step in. "Catherine, are you angry because of the truth itself?"

She thinks about my question before answering. "No. I'm angry because…I'm angry because of the context in which the lie has been told."

"Let's not beat around the bush, shall we?" Sara says. "The reason why she's angry is because I lied during a session, I broke the two first golden rules."

"Why?" I simply ask.

"To preserve myself, to…" she trails off and sighs. "I've lied to her twice, though in my defence the first time wasn't technically a lie considering that her question wasn't precise."

Catherine snorts. "Oh that rich…"

"You asked me if it was my first time at therapy. And I said yes, which is true it's the first time that I'm in therapy with someone else. It sounds sneaky but admit that it wasn't completely a lie."

"Fine, I'll give you that one. The issue is still there though because that lie doesn't bother me."

Sara breathes out in a jaded way. "It was during our second session, I lied to protect myself. I didn't trust Catherine at the time, and such a confession would have been like giving her more ammunition against me for a future argument, and I didn't want that."

"How do you feel about it Catherine?" I query.

"I feel betrayed."

"You're making such a big deal out of it."

"It is a big deal," Catherine stresses out.

"No, it's not," Sara whines a bit.

Sara sighs. "Alright. You know how I'd imply you are a slut when we fight?" she asks rhetorically. "I know you're not a slut and I don't see you as a slut, even though it is true that I'd find your behaviour questionable on some occasion. Again, I know you're not a slut, but I also know that this barb always hits home. We used to fight just to hurt each other, no matter what road we took to get to that point. I didn't want to give you a short cut to hurt me because at the time our fights were ugly and destructive. This is why I haven't been honest," she makes her point.

Catherine takes her words in, it takes her a lot not to reply, she's really trying to understand Sara yet I can see that her bruised ego is still having a hard time to get over it.

"Things have changed, and the only fact that I _volunteered_ that information in the first place shows you that I do trust you more than before, that I know we're past the point we'd hurt each other just for the sheer fun of doing it," Sara adds

Sara stands up with a sigh when Catherine doesn't answer. "That's probably one of those things about you that I can't stand that most."

"Excuse me?" Catherine points out.

"You have a double standard. There are rules for you and then there are rules for the others."

"That's not true," Catherine protests.

"It is Catherine, whether you realize it or not," Sara's voice is far from being aggressive, which is a good point, it means that she is opened to dialogue – which is seldom the case. "Or maybe it's not with everyone else but when it comes to me, the standard is so high that in the end I'm bound to fuck up, and that's unfair."

I take the opportunity to chime in. "Catherine, do you feel threaten by Sara ?" I ask seemingly out of the blue.

"Jok…" she starts immediately but trails off when she realised that she doesn't have this option anymore. She shakes her head and sighs. "You sneaky son of a bitch," she mutters between her teeth. "You're keeping a tight record aren't you?" she narrows her eyes at me.

"I'm surprised you ever doubt it," I simply answer.

She snickers to hold back her anger. She takes a deep breath. "Yes," she answers firmly. You have to admire her character, when she's cornered she'll take the punches with her head high. "She's everything I'm not, she makes me feel inferior. She's younger, she had a better education, she's more intelligent than I'll ever be. I have to work twice as hard to keep up with her and not to look like a complete moron…at least that's how I feel."

"This is ridiculous," Sara states.

"Well it's the truth, it might sound stupid and irrational, so be it, at least I'm _honest_ about it," Catherine shoots back, reminding Sara that's she's not in position to make judgement today. "But I object to the fact that according to you I've got a double standard, that's not true," Catherine adds a second or two later

"Right," Sara snorts.

"Fine, you want to go down that road then go ahead and argument your position," Catherine defies Sara. "Go on, give me concrete examples of my supposed double standard."

"Fine," Sara shrugs. "Harlan case, I asked you to hold the brother – who was guilty of abusing his sister – in custody for her safety and…"

"We didn't have anything concrete to hold him in jail for 48h then, she had a violent boyfriend with a record a mile long, which explains my decision at the time," Catherine defends herself.

"Decision that miraculously changed when Warrick stepped in," Sara replies and Catherine grit her teeth to let the comment slide, obviously not liking the implication of Sara's statement.

"Monroe case…"

"Don't even start on this one, your attitude was out of order, you lost it against a suspect without any evidence to back it up…"

"You wouldn't back me up when I asked for that freaking DNA test, which would have make things better!" Sara seethes with frustration. "Davis case, I asked you to make a double check and to get a warrant for the shelf of the husband, you refused, but oh surprise when Nicky asked you, you obliged."

"Nick had a strong theory which provided the reasonable doubt enough to get that warrant. You just decided from the start that he was guilty."

It goes on like this, Sara makes a grocery list of cases for which she thinks Catherine acted unfairly toward her. Catherine defends herself, keeping her anger in check. One more proof of progress between them is the fact that they're having a constructive argument.

Objectively it seems that Sara's instincts were right in the end in most cases except that she couldn't back up her intuition which led Catherine to dismiss her, and yet grant her support to their other colleague when they did follow Sara's first idea.

I understand why Sara would think she's being treated unequally compared to her colleagues, however I wouldn't say it's because Catherine uses a double standard for her decisions.

"…and I asked several times to do a basic check up for abuse and you ignored my plea, and she almost got killed!"

"That's not fair Sara, the evidences were all circumstantial for one and then she never ever made any complaint about any domestic abuse!"

For a few second they stare at each other panting, with flaming stares.

Catherine pinches the bridge of her nose, then closes her eyes to calm down and sighs. "You know, I don't see me having a double standard, no, what I see is you having a big problem with authority, mine to be specific, especially when it comes to domestic abuses," she states. "Come to think of it, it all boils down to that, you almost always jump on the domestic abuse conclusion sometimes even without any evidence to back up your theories."

"The evidences are there, you're the one not seeing them."

"Sara, you're letting your emotions run those investigations, you don't have an impartial look on it all, and all I do is to make sure you don't cross the wrong line too hastily."

Sara does not like what she's hearing, in fact if her body language is anything to go by, she resents Catherine's words.

"You want me to prove my point?" Catherine asks rhetorically. "Let's get back to the Andrew Melton case then."

Sara's body stiffens immediately as if she had just received a powerful electroshock. She's cornered and well aware of that fact. She's probably berating herself for actually putting herself into that position, she basically trapped herself on her own.

"I asked it once and asked it again. What is your problem with domestic violence cases?" Catherine throws in.

Sara clenches her jaw tightly and balls her fists but doesn't answer. Catherine knows that Sara can't escape this time so she just goes on.

"You were out of line with Andrew Melton when there were no evidences whatsoever of abuse, Andrew Melton had no priors with justice…"

"Are you shitting me?! Svetlana accused him of beating her! You saw the picture of the woman!"

"Unfortunately she wasn't there to testify and her accusation didn't follow through. The charges weren't held against him. And yes unlike what you might think I remember very well the pictures of Svetlana, which proved to be the work of someone very angry and short tempered, someone who'd leave traces of any kind after him. Andrew Melton was calm if it wasn't for you attacking him about his choice of life," Catherine argues. "Then I'll add that June didn't seem afraid of him and didn't wear any signs of abuse."

Sara snorts and shakes her head. "You're just like them," she mutters but I don't think Catherine catches as she continues.

"He was there to help us finding trace of his ex-wife, and you were ready to put a charge of domestic abuse on him. I refused your request for black-and-white and regular welfare checks because June didn't ask for any help for one and then your accusation was based on nothing but empty air!"

"Hard for her to ask for help when she doesn't know her rights and barely speaks English!"

"Damn it Sara! I was _there_! I saw her and there wasn't _any_ sign at all, no bruises, no contusions, nothing!"

"None that we could see!" Sara explodes.

"Our job isn't to play guessing games Sara but to concretely prove things."

"I wasn't guessing Catherine, she needed help I knew it..."

"And let me guess, if I hadn't let my sexuality cloud my judgement I might have seen it too," Catherine cuts Sara short with a sharp voice. "Instead of turning this whole thing around me why don't you enlighten me and tell me what those invisible signs of yours were. Because trust me, a man who beats his wife, leaves visible marks."

It takes Sara times to respond, she's probably weighting her options, not quite ready to open the can of worms. She's holding onto the illusion that there might still be a way out of this. "Domestic violence laws have forced men to get smarter about their hitting…Though I'll have you know that for those for who beating the crap out of people is a hobby, they spend their time thinking of ways to cover themselves."

"You would know…"

This was one too many push, Sara's stare is violent and cold. Her old wounds are bleeding open again.

"I _do_ know Catherine," Sara finally answers coldly. Her body is filled with even more tension than before, it's like a dark aura was emanating from her ready to destroy and swallow everything on its path.

I couldn't say whether Catherine is taken aback by the answer itself or by the fact that Sara has answered at all, either way she's at lost for words.

"You'd be amazed at the damages any heavy object wrapped up into some clothe can do. And the advantage is that the bruises seldom show, but I can assure you that the hurt is there." Sara's voice is becoming more aggressive. "My father's favorite game was to find out which one of the hammer or the monkey wrench did the more damages. And he was very smart because no matter how hard he hit, or what new torture he used he always made sure no one would ever see it," she snorts. "He could be so sharp and methodical when it came to play."

Catherine is just staring blankly. "I've been there…" she whispers. "That's what you said to Nathan…"

"Yes Catherine, I've been there. I've been the one who was abused over and over again… and nobody ever saw it. And if they did…" she laughs dryly. "Funny how the 'you know how kids are' line worked wonder. Nobody ever questioned the marks, the burns on my brothers and me… but I give it to my father, he was good at saving the appearances."

"Sara…you can't…project yourself in every case…" Catherine says softly.

Sara shakes her head and let out a strangled humourless laugh. "You're just like them Catherine, you don't see. You're so wrapped up in your belief that abuses leave traces," she pauses and shakes her head. "If only you knew…you'd realise that most of the time the visible marks are squat compared to the rest. But you just don't get it!"

Sara's breathing is heavy, blatantly losing control of herself. "Nobody cared! My mother had to stab him to death for it to stop! She had to stab him to death for people to start giving a damn! Eight years…_Eight fucking years_ of daily beating, of being raped, of psychological violence, of abuse of all sorts and no one ever gave a damn!" she spits. "I've waited every goddamned day of my childhood and hoped for somebody, _anybody_ to offer some help… for somebody to fucking care!!" Sara shouts vehemently.

Catherine is startled by Sara's hostility.

"I've sworn to myself that I'll never be like all those people; that I'll be the one to see when something is wrong, the one to protect those who can't do it themselves. I've sworn that I'd at least try to help them as much as I can and that's what I wanted to do for June, just make sure she was okay. That bastard was mistreating his wife! You went to his place you saw the fucking chain on the fridge so he'd control her, you saw the way he treated her like a pet! Yet that wasn't enough for you to even care about her well being!"

Sara's panting dangerously, red with anger and frustration, while Catherine is going pale. "That day you didn't refuse my request because I didn't have anything to back it up, you refused it because I was the one asking! Our job is to help people and prevent bad things to happen when we can! Had it been anybody else, Nick, Greg, Warrick…fuck even Hodges damn it, you'd have given it a go, but because it was _me_ you said no! And I dare you to tell me otherwise!" she points her finger as if she could stab her with it. "Go on and deny that it's not what happened that day!! Go on!!"

Catherine's silence speaks volume. Her jaw twitches, she's unable to sustain Sara's intense gaze, she looks like a little girl who's been scold after being caught doing a misbehaving, overwhelmed with guilt.

"Just because you could, just because you wanted to show me who had the authority…just because of stupid reasons you said no and left her to be the punching bag of some asshole!! And THAT'S FUCKED UP!!!" Sara screams out of her lungs.

She must feel that I'm about to speak cause she turns to me with rage oozing from her. "I'm fucking pissed off, just because _she_ couldn't stand me," she says in a bawl pointing at Catherine. "Somebody is being treated like a fucking object or worse, and that… that enrages me beyond any words!!"

She kicks my coffee table with so much force that it turns upside down on the floor. Catherine jumps at the sudden movement, she suddenly looks like a dear caught in headlights. I don't think she has ever witnessed such violence coming from Sara and naturally it scares her.

Sara starts to pace with fury before going to my bookcase, she sweeps her arms over the shelves making fly my books, then she violently pushes the whole bookcase on the floor which crashes down with a loud thump, then she stomps on it with rage, denting and damaging badly the heavy wood, grunting at every kick.

She's overwhelmed by her emotions and I know that violence is her only way to let it out. She doesn't seem to have enough though, she's groaning with extreme frustration and anger, holding her head between her hands. Without warning she launches at my wall and crashes her fist so bluntly into it I'm afraid she's going to break her hand. I'm up in the second, I don't mind her destroying my office if it makes her feel better, however I do care about the both of them and the last thing I want is for them to hurt themselves least of all on my watch.

I'm about to intervene but the sound of another punch makes Catherine get out of her fearful stupor and hurry herself close to Sara. "Sara, stop!" she asks. "Please, stop hurting yourself," she tries to hold her back as much as she can but Sara wriggles herself out of the embrace.

"Stay away from me!" Sara shouts as she turns around and faces Catherine. "Don't you touch me!"

Catherine is holding her hands in front of her in surrender to let Sara know that she doesn't mean any harm. Sara is like a wild animal, she feels trap and she's ready to defend herself till exhaustion.

"I'm sorry," Catherine says with a voice weakened by incoming tears. She steps closer to Sara again and tries to take her in her arms. Sara debates herself and pushes Catherine away, but Catherine stands her ground and holds on.

Eventually, when she's secured in Catherine's arms Sara stop fighting and she breaks down with loud, gut wrenching sobs. "I'm sorry," Catherine repeats. I know she's not apologizing for Sara's past but because she did take a decision based on a wrong motive on the Melton case.

"I'm so sorry…" she repeats softly again, holding tightly onto Sara as silent tears run free on her face. Sara's grip on Catherine tightens before her legs give up on her, Catherine follows her down, never breaking the embrace. They stay there, down on their knees, holding onto one another as if their lives depended on it. "I got you now," Catherine says soothingly as Sara keeps sobbing her heart out. "I got you…"

I sit back down on my armchair and look at the scene unfold before turning away to the window, giving them a little privacy. I know this kind of session is draining for me, and I'm not the one having to relive any memories or face my issues, so I can't imagine how draining and painful it is for Catherine and Sara. Unlike what they might believe sometimes I don't enjoy putting them through pain, but pain is part of the process. You can't escape it, but you can learn from it and grow stronger for it providing you face it. Pain is a bad friend but it is a good teacher.

I take a deep breath and pull myself together, after all this is never about me. I look at the girls, they haven't moved from and inch; Catherine is silently rocking Sara back and forth in a soothing motion; and Sara hasn't loosen her grip on Catherine, even from where I am, I can see her still shaking. I have no doubt that she'll need some time to recover from her breakdown.

Catherine turns to me for a short moment and I nod silently to let her know that whenever they feel like it they are free to go. I decide to give them complete privacy, I walk silently to Catherine and put my hand on her shoulder for no more than a second and then go to the kitchen side. I pour myself some cold milk in a big glass and then retreat to my private living quarters. The voice of Catherine reaches my ears one last time before I close my door.

"Come on, sweetie, let's get you home," she says with a very sweet and soft voice.

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**As I had promised, there is it, what's you've all been asking for, Sara's past is in the open. I hope I didn't disappoint too much. Now, folks, I know I canbe cruel sometimes but yes, there will be love and it will come in due time, it's in the plan. You know me, I like to do things properly so just keep having faith in me ;)**

**I'm checking my flightpath and I should come back with more soon. :)**

**Thanks for reading**


	18. Chapter 18

**Hi everybody, I know, I know I've taken quite a long time to update but there are good reasons. Anyway, thank you all very much for the reviews, you make my day every time. This chap is Sara-centric, and I'm not just saying this because it's from her pov.**

**Enjoy,**

**So ;)**

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**Chapter 18**

_Sara's POV_

I'm numb with unbearable pain. That's all I feel right now. It's like a raging wound open wide and bleeding abundantly, and for which there's no remedy. It's a pain no word can express properly, even breathing hurts at the moment. Everything, every memory came back full force as violently as a ton of brick falling on my head by surprise.

"Come on, sweetie, let's get you home."

It takes me a few seconds to register that I haven't imagine it. Someone just talked to me. When I finally manage to focus a bit I see Catherine's face looking at me with bright blue eyes. I had forgotten she was there, even more that she was holding me. She's looking at me expectantly and I realise that she's waiting for an answer from me. I think I nod slightly but I'm not sure.

She stands and helps me to get on my feet. I look around, the room is trashed, books are scattered everywhere, closed or half opened, the furniture are upside down…

Out of habit I look at my hands, my knuckles are bloody and I have cuts spread on the back of each hands.

I did that… Hurricane Sara stroke again.

I don't have time to dwell on the trashed room, or even to try to formulate an apology because Catherine grabs one of my hands delicately and leads me out of the room, in my current daze I notice at the last moment that Adam is nowhere in sight.

Catherine makes me enter her car, then she goes to the driver seat. I think she asks me something but my brain refuses to translate anything to me. When I don't react she just reaches out to my seat belt and buckles it for me. Then she puts the car in motion.

It's like I was caught in some weird out of body experience. My body is aching badly and I can feel it, I swear I can feel my old and long gone bruises stinging my skin, I can feel all my scars burning. Yet it's like I wasn't there, like my body was on its own devices.

The scenery is blurry, and my mind seems completely shut down. I must have fallen asleep without realizing it, because I open my eyes at the insistent hand of Catherine shaking my shoulder lightly. I look at her blankly, not sure of what she's expecting. I look at the window and see a house…I don't live in a house.

The passenger door opens and hot air engulfs itself in the car. Catherine undoes my belt and takes my hand to lead me out. She closes the car and walks us through a driveway, to a door. She opens it swiftly and gently pushes me inside with a hand on the small of my back.

She takes back my hand as soon as she has locked the door again. She guides me inside until we reach the bathroom, the light is enhance by the white and light blue tiles, so much I have to squint my eyes. Catherine places herself in front of me, I see her lips moving but no sounds reach my ears.

She cups my face delicately but the contact burns badly and I jerk away immediately. Suddenly I'm aware of the beating of my heart, the nausea in the pit of my stomach, the burning on my hands, the mingled smell of detergent and perfumes in her bathroom, the sound of her voice.

"I'm sorry," she says immediately putting her hands in a surrender gesture. "I asked if you'd be ok to take a shower on your own or if you wanted me to run you a bath?"

I blink slowly. "Shower," I finally answer after what seems like an eternity. She just nods then leaves the room, she comes back barely two minutes after with a towel and clothes.

"The boxers are new I promise. This should fit you," she states before leaving again.

I'm alone, lost, wondering why I'm here…

My eyes fall on the mirror, someone's staring back at me, a stranger, but I don't see myself. I look away and I let my body take charge of everything, I see my hands unbuttoning my shirt, and soon I'm naked, I don't dare looking at the mirror again, knowing all too well the ugly marks covering my body.

I climb into the shower and let the spray of hot water dripping over my body. I feel dirty, soiled…

I know that no matter how hard I'm scrubbing my skin, nothing will wash that feeling away. But even with this knowledge I can't help myself from rubbing myself until blood rushes to my skin. I don't know how much time passes by but eventually I give up on finding again the feeling of cleanness.

I exit the shower dry myself quickly and dress up with the clothes Catherine lent me.

I feel dirty.

I want all those feelings to disappear, all the memories…everything. I wish I could just disappear…I shouldn't go down that road of thoughts it only makes everything messier than they already are.

There's a knock on the door. "Are you alright in there?" Catherine asks. Well I suppose I've been here for longer than I realised. "Sara?"

I don't bother answering and just come out of the room. Catherine looks at me with concern, I don't know what to say to her, I don't feel like talking right now, much less about that glorious past of mine.

"Let's take care of your knuckles," she finally breaks the silence.

"I'm good," I reply firmly. She looks about to protest but then just lets it slide.

"I'm going to show you the guest room so you can try to rest a bit," she announces me, once again I follow her without any protest, she waits for me to be lying on the bed before leaving alone.

The emotional exhaustion takes its toll on me and I sink into blackness fast.

xxxxx

I'm startled out of my restless slumber, my heart is racing, I can feel cold sweat running down my spine, I'm out of breath and disoriented. It takes me a few seconds to remember where I am and why. I take deep breaths to calm myself down and pass a hand over my face before sighing.

Just as I'm about to get out of bed I notice Catherine's slumped figure on a chair at the side of the bed. She looks uncomfortable and asleep.

I get up and approach her silently. I gather her in my arms before putting her down in the bed, she moves to a comfier position instantly grabbing the pillow I was previously using without waking up, something tells me she watched over me for quite a long time.

The thick dark curtains in the room make it hard for me to know whether it's night or day, I exit the room quietly before closing the door behind me. After making a little detour to the bathroom, I walk into the living room discovering that it's early in the morning, almost 8 a.m. if my watch doesn't deceive me.

I need to have some water and something to eat so I move myself to the kitchen side but stop in mid stride when I see Lindsey's figured hunched over the table, a book on her right and taking notes with her left hand. I put myself together and seat on a chair in front of her.

"Hey there," I greet her trying to appear more relax than I truly am.

She glances at me and sends me a tight smile. "Hey Sara," she says before returning to her reading.

I've said before that I wasn't good with kids and I'm not, I'm awkward and I tend to treat them as adults most of the time. I'm not completely inept I'll find what to do eventually, but that generally comes after long, _very_ long hours or even days of clumsiness.

Granted Lindsey's a teenager. But I've never exchanged more than the mandatory 'hey, how are you, how is it going?' with her, on some occasions we even shared a joke but that's about it. Plus I've only seen her during the parties Catherine throws at the end of each year or the birthdays. I wouldn't say we don't get along, we just don't have any kind of relationship. The boys have known her longer than I did and I know that unlike me, Catherine asked them to baby sit at least once, so they all have a bound. She and I are…friendly strangers, we never had the occasion to make that change, not that it ever bothered any of us that much.

"What are you studying?" I ask tentatively.

"Physics."

"Cool."

"Yeah."

"Need any help?"

"Nah, thanks for offering though," she flashes me a polite grin.

I decide to leave her alone, I look around and find a glass, then I pour some water and drink it in one long gulp. Out of nowhere there's a loud growl, I frown before watching Lindsey…it would seem that 'tummy bears' run in the family.

She winces and stares at her book before looking at me with embarrassment. I just chuckle softly in response.

"You truly are the daughter of your mother," I say with a smile.

"That's a bit redundant don't you think?" she contracts her brow at her question.

"Yeah," I snort. "Private joke, nevermind," I add and she just shrugs in response. "So you haven't eaten yet," I state more than asked.

"That much is obvious," she counters. I just raise my eyebrows in question, if she's hungry why not eating? "There are no cereals left," she shrugs.

This time I frown before venturing a suggestion. "You can't cook?"

"I _can_ cook," she protests. I just keep staring at her waiting to find out what the catch is. "I'm just... bad at it," she shrugs nonchalantly.

"How bad is _bad_?"

"Are you dating my mom?" she asks out of the blue, attacking straight to the jugular.

"No," I simply answer unfazed by her question. Catherine and I have a complicated yet sometimes simple relationship that has yet to be defined. We are occasional fuck buddies, but we're definitely not dating. "So? How bad?" I get back on tracks

She scrutinizes me for a second then sighs. "According to my family I'm between 9.5 and 10 on the disaster scale."

"And just how many graduations does the disaster scale have?"

"Ten," she replies.

"Sweet," I declare flatly. "How old are you?"

"I'll be 13 in four months."

I notice that she has that jaded and kind of monotone voice a bit like one of my favorite animated character. I also realise that her and my teenage self are alike on some level; detached, maybe had to grow up a bit faster, dry humour, not letting anybody disconcert or reach us, in appearance not caring about the world and about what the world might think about us. But she has something that I never had and never will have, she takes after Catherine.

"Not to patronize you, but every person your age should know how to cook, at the very least for survival reasons. You never know what can happen and you need to be able to feed yourself with something other than cereals or already prepared crap you find in stores."

"Wow, you just taught me something I didn't know."

Her sarcastic attitude could irritate some but it makes me laugh inwardly, to be honest I like it.

"When is it due?" I tilt my head in direction of her physics exercises book.

"It's not, it's just me practicing."

"In that case let's practice on those cooking skills of yours or lack thereof."

"Right now?"

"You _are_ hungry," I just state in answer.

She narrows her eyes at me then sighs and puts her book and notebook away. She then joins me close to the countertop.

"What do you get out of this?" she asks.

"Nothing yet, but I'm sure you'll teach me something one day."

"Are you being sarcastic?"

"No."

She stares at me for a second, judging by herself if I'm pulling her leg or not, then just shrugs.

"Your kitchen is nothing but a giant chemistry set," I start.

"Yeah except that I know my way around a chemistry set."

I take a sheet of paper a write down a recipe by memory and hand it to her. "This is the formula, follow it to the letter first, when you master it you'll be able to add the Lindsey flavour."

"The Lindsey flavour?"

"Yeah, the little thing that makes it yours, according to your tastes. You might do a lot of wrong experiments before finding it but you'll figure it out, once you'll get the basics down that is."

She puts the sheet in front of her and moves in the kitchen to get everything she needs. She grabs an egg and literally smashes it inside the bowl, shell and content, in what I suppose to be her attempt to open it. Guess she wasn't joking about her rank on the disaster scale.

I scratch my temple before speaking "You… need to think _inside_ the egg. Whatever you do, the shells always go to the trash bin for it's not edible."

She's looking at her hand now covered with sticky liquid then frowns at me. "Shut up," she just growls.

"Aren't you a cheerful camper," I smile falsely. "Clean and try again."

"You're a bad teacher."

"And you're an even worse student so far, so, we're good."

She does as told and I spend the next hour guiding her through the recipe. She makes it look like a brain surgery was easier.

"It looks like someone chewed it before regurgitating it all," she describes her pancakes. And she's not really too far off, I must say.

"Looks can be deceiving."

"Right," she takes one pancake and cut it into pieces before tasting one bite. "It tastes okay, but I'm so hungry right now that the sole of my shoe would probably taste as good."

I chuckle and take one bite myself. "It's edible, not extraordinary, but not bad."

"Your opinion doesn't count, for all I know you could only be nice so not to admit that your teaching sucks."

I snort, I think I like that kid.

"Guess we'll have to wait for your mom…"

"Wait for me for what?" Catherine appears out of thin air rubbing her eyes like a kid. She's dishevelled, her eyes are thick with sleep, and her voice is an octave lower than usual.

She looks at the table and tilts her head a bit. "Linds…you…"

"I've cooked breakfast," Lindsey finishes Catherine's thought.

"Yummy…I …can't wait to taste it," Catherine replies with not so much enthusiasm, she is apparently forcing herself to keep a smile, but it sure looks like we've just announced her that she was about to get a teeth or two pulled out without any anaesthetic.

She seats at the table and makes herself a plate with food. She takes her time to get ready. I suppose there's an unwritten rule somewhere in the parent book saying that parents have to eat whatever their kids make for them out of principle, even if the edibility of the food is questionable.

My parents applied that rule, and considering the 'food' Charlie – my eldest brother – cooked that was very brave of them. I don't have many good memories of my childhood, or maybe they've just all been shadowed by the bad ones. Anyway, for some reasons cooking has always been a special moment in my family, something about passing the heritage of my great grandparents. The kitchen was probably the only place we actually looked like a real family.

Catherine cuts herself a piece of pancake and puts it carefully in her mouth, she closes her eyes in a way that says she hopes it won't actually explode in her mouth. She chews slowly and looks pleasantly surprised at the taste.

"Linds…this is actually not bad, not perfect, but definitely not bad," she smiles genuinely. "It certainly tastes better than it looks," she jokes.

Lindsey looks at me and I can see the shadow of a grin on her lips, we bump our fists in 'celebration'. We seat along with Catherine and start eating as well.

Catherine jerks a bit when she takes a sip from her coffee, then she opens her eyes so wide it's almost as if they were about to pop out of their sockets. "Sweetie do me a favour, never touch that coffee pot again, you might kill someone," she snorts. "This coffee isn't strong, it's atomic," she says to me. I trust her word on this one since I'm having cold milk at the moment.

"Sorry," Lindsey winces a bit.

The breakfast is quiet without being uncomfortable, and oddly enough I don't feel out of place. Once we're done Lindsey and I silently clean the table and do the dishes, then she goes in the living room to keep practicing her physics.

"I'm sorry you couldn't rest," I finally speak to Catherine.

"It's not your fault, I just wanted to make sure you were alright, then I just fell asleep."

I nod silently. It's only now that the two of us are alone I start to feel pressure on my chest, it's getting hard to breathe. I am tasting the first savours of an incoming panic attack. This is the time people would ask questions, would start treating me like a freak or like I was made of sugar; they'd start to feel sorry for me and so on. I don't want that, there's nothing worse.

"I have to go do the groceries, gee do I hate this moment. Plus something tells me we're out of eggs."

I smile inwardly, sometimes I forget, Catherine isn't people, she's her.

I simply chuckle at that. "I'll just use your shower one more time then I'll head out to let you do your things."

She laughs softly. "You really didn't think you'd get away with it did you?"

"Get away with what?"

"Sara, I've seen my daughter cook, I know the extend of the loss, I'm pretty sure my fridge and cupboards are almost empty, so you are going to take a shower and then help me refill, smartass," she smiles at me letting me know that I don't have the choice.

We spend the rest of the day in comfortable silence, doing random things, mostly I'm helping her through her domestic life. We don't talk much, and when we do it's about trivial matters without ever being boring or forced.

As complicated and unbalanced as our relationship might be, there's this unexplainable thread between us; most of the time we have this ability to reach out for one another and have those perfect yet awkward moments. They are ephemeral and fragile, uncomfortable and yet strong, it's like sneak peek of what things could be between us.

Even though I don't point it out I know that Catherine is always finding a reason for me to stay not that I'm fighting much not to stay. I enjoy watching them, how intimate they can be, like they were stuck in an invisible bubble that nothing could burst, yet I don't feel left alone, not really. Several times Catherine reaches out to me, inviting me to join them and the funniest part is that I can feel, deep down in me that I actually want to join them.

Then watching them makes me angry beyond words, and that's reason why I can't be close to anyone at the moment, not when I'm emotionally unstable and not ready to be vulnerable in Catherine's presence again.

After watching movies together, we call it a day, Catherine acts as if it was the most natural thing in the world for me to stay one more night, like we were roommates.

I have a restless slumber for my thoughts are bouncing around my mind, so violently that I can't grasp any of them and make something rational out of it. My anger is just getting stronger and stronger, it's like hot steam begging to come out. I need to get out of here, I need to get away from Catherine and Lindsey. I know myself, and the only way I've found over the years to channel my anger is through pain, pain I inflict to myself, at least then I feel something other than anger.

I spend several hours trying to write a simple note. Catherine's been very kind to me, not pushy, not invasive, she's just been there and I'm grateful for everything, that's why I can't leave without a note.

I hear water being flushed, and more water pouring, then Lindsey's figure appears from the corridor, she's rubbing her eyes. She goes straight to the cupboard, retrieves a glass and serves herself some water.

"Writing new formulas for me to fail?" she asks with a voice thick with sleep.

"I was…"

I don't get to finish my sentence as she picks up one of the sheet of paper I had crumpled into a ball and reads it. Her face darkens immediately, she looks at me with so much anger that it's like I could see the tension materialize into electricity.

"You're running away," she states more than asks before closing her fist tightly around the note.

"No I'm…"

"Writing some lame note before leaving the house while my mother is sleeping," she finishes for me. "Put in other words, you're running away, like a thief or a coward, whichever you like."

"I'm not running away, I just don't want to wake your mom…"

"Coward it is then," she rolls her eyes before crossing her arms over her chest, looking much like her mother. I just sigh, obviously I can't win this little argument. She stares at me intently. "That's it? You don't have any more weak argument to provide?"

"I told you I wasn't running away."

"Right, you're in denial with your actions I see," she goes on. "Do you have to go to work?"

"No."

"Do you have a plane to catch?"

"No."

"I suppose your apartment isn't on fire…so you could wait to tell my mom thanks and goodbye yet you choose to write a note…but of course you're not running away," she says with blatant sarcasm and a fake smile on top of it. She snorts. "You're just like the others."

I open my mouth to respond but she keeps on. "I know, I'm the teenager who doesn't understand grown up's business," she shakes her head. "You people think you can come and go as you see fit without caring about the consequences of your actions. Mom can play tough but she gets hurts when people like you treat her like she was meaningless. I don't know what your relationship with my mom is and somewhere I don't care, but I do know that whatever it is my mom cares a lot about it, I can see that much. Yet you don't even have a conscious case about being shifty with her," she spits.

"You want to know what pisses me off the most?," she asks rhetorically "It pisses me off that you don't see the truth. The truth is that in the end I'm the one left behind to pick up the pieces and fix what you've carelessly broken," she says through clenched teeth.

I feel like I've been slapped with blunt force, funny how one can be so blindsided by their own feelings that they completely elude the details of the big picture. I was so focused on myself that I didn't see I was about to be unfair with Catherine yet again.

"You want to go? Go, I'm sure you have a good reason for it. But I dare you to leave without giving my mom a proper goodbye because that's the very least she deserves. If you so much as leave some lame note behind you, so help me if you dare crossing that threshold again," she points the main door before slamming her glass on the counter and retreating to her bedroom.

My first instinct when I feel like I do at the moment is to push people away, but Catherine isn't just 'people'. And I know that we're still struggling to have a balanced and well structured relationship but I'm tired of giving her reasons to give up on whatever it is that we have.

I need to start doing things right. At least try and give it a go. If it doesn't work, I'd still have the satisfaction to have tried my hardest.

That thought brings other issues up front, I'll have to talk to her eventually. I know that my outburst in Adam's office was just the beginning. I have to sit down and tell her those things that haunt me and that make me who I am today. No, that's wrong, I don't have to, but I want to, even though I'm not ready to admit it to her yet, I do want to tell her. Why do I want this? I'm not sure yet but I suppose I'll found out one day.

I take all my draft for my note and tear them into tiny pieces before throwing everything away. Even though Lindsey's right and I now intend to wait for Catherine to wake up before leaving, I find it really unnerving for me to stay here. I need to find something to do with myself because every single part of me is screaming at me to make a dash for the door, while I still can.

I decide to make breakfast, by the time I'm done, it's still early and since neither of the Willows have woken up I keep cooking to keep myself busy. Cooking soothes me a bit and by 9 o'clock I just seat on the ledge of the kitchen window and watch life going by outside. I eventually call a cab, if Catherine isn't up by the time it arrives, I'll go wake her up and tell her goodbye.

"Did you invite the whole lab for breakfast?" the sleepy voice of Catherine resounds in the quiet room startling me out of my contemplation of her street. I look at the clock and it's almost 10 now. Her hair is still a bit wet from her shower and she's dressed with a big t-shirt and sweat pants.

"You're up," I state the obvious. "I…I got a little carried away," I mention the table full with food before standing up.

"I see that," she chuckles.

"Well, it won't be wasted seeing Lindsey's appetite."

"True," she agrees as she sniffs around. "It sure smells and looks good," she takes one muffin and takes a bite. "Hmmm… that's excellent."

"Thanks."

She pours herself some coffee in a mug before taking one seat around the table and beginning to eat.

"Did you manage to rest?" she asks as she fills her plate with pancakes.

"A bit," she nods but doesn't push me with other questions. "I'm going to go back home," I tell her suddenly.

She has her fork in mid air when her head snaps in my direction. "Oh," she simply says before putting her fork down on her plate. "There's no rush, I mean…you're more than welcome to stay."

"I know," I nod. "Thanks…"

"But you have to go," she whispers.

"Yeah…" I sigh. "Thank you for yesterday…for everything, I really appreciate it."

"I haven't done anything," she replies. "You're more than welcome here, anytime you want, at any hour of any day," I nod, really touched by her statement. "If you give me ten minutes I'll give you a lift home."

"No need, I called a cab earlier and…" as if the simple mention of it made it appeared there's a horn blasting from the outside.

She sends me the ghost of a smile, I'd say she looks sad, maybe she's upset I'm leaving already.

"I'll walk you to the door," she states before standing. We walk silently to her main door, it feels as if we're never going to see each other again. I'll never understand how things can get so intense between us sometimes.

I open the door and make a sign to the driver that I'm coming, then I turn around to Catherine. "I'll get you your t-shirt back…"

"Don't worry about it," she shrugs with a smile.

"Thank you, really," I repeat.

She hesitates for a second or two then grabs one of my hands in a loose embrace. "I'm one phone call away, for anything."

I nod for lack of appropriate words because 'thank you' seems so little right now.

"Take a good care of yourself."

"I will," at the very leant I'll try, I add silently.

I'm yearning to take her in my arms but I also know myself well enough to realize that I'm not ready for such a contact, especially not with her, so I just squeeze her hand before leaving her place.

xxxxx

As I'm watching Las Vegas shrinking through my window, I still can't believe that I'm in a plane.

I went to work early, my anger still boiling inside me, I guess I reached the point I couldn't stand the pressure anymore and I needed to let it out, only not on everybody and anybody. I needed to go back to the source, so I took some days off and caught the first available flight for San Francisco.

Barely four hours after leaving I'm at destination, and I decide to take a cab to the Sidles' property.

Twenty minutes later the cab is stops in front of a story house, the family building. This house has been in my family for a very long time, my great, great, great-grand father built it with his brothers, and his heirs spent their life to perfect it and make it the house it is today. Next to it is a four story building which is part of the Sidles' family business. My grand father built this part of our business with his siblings, they started from nothing and with their hard work they made it a reputable Inn; something my father tried to stand to this reputation. Today it's my siblings and I turn to add our contribution to the Sidles' heritage.

Obviously with my job in Vegas, I don't participate as actively as others but I do have a job to do when it comes to the Inn. Three of my brothers run this place with my cousins and a little staff we have gathered and who has been with us for the past ten years at least.

"Oh, little bee is back to the hive," I hear follow by a thump as my brother Howard jumps down from the tree he was perched in.

"Howie, you're too old to play in trees, don't you think?" I tease him.

"Says the girl who's paid to 'scavenge hunt in trees for evidence'," he makes a quoting motion in the air. I roll my eyes and chuckle. "Welcome home Buzz," he greets me with a hug before kissing my temple. I hug him back tightly, it's always overwhelming for me to be back home, to comfort and love.

He keeps his arm around my shoulders as we walk to the front door.

"Charlie, Buzz is here," he calls out.

Our older brother literally rushes to the hall and runs to me, securing me in his arms like he was scared I'd disappear if he let go.

Charlie and Howard being the eldest they have raised us, by 'us' I mean, Russell, my twin brother Sidney, Rueben and finally our little sister Hazel, that's right we are one big family. Four of us have taken an active part in the different branches of the family business, while Russell, Hazel and I have taken different paths.

Charlie and Howard take care of me like they always do and we catch up with each other. I don't come as often as I'd like to but I try to visit on regular bases, besides I have nieces and nephews now, even more incentive to come whenever possible.

"So are you here for a little impromptu holyday?" Howard demands.

"Nah, I'm going to visit mom and then I'll see, I might stay a few days."

"Everything's okay?" Charlie asks.

"It's been a while since my last visit," I avoid the matter with…well it's not a lie, just one version of the truth. Last time I visited my mom it was a bit over six months ago.

After dining with them I finally go to bed. I don't rest, my mind is stuck in memories of the past, I hear shouting and struggling, I put my hands over my ears and shrink to a foetal position, waiting and hoping for the screams to stop and to find some peace of mind.

xxxxx

I take a deep breath and release it as I face the penitentiary building. One of the advantage working for the law enforcement – even in the scientific section, is to be able to visit without too much trouble and less paperwork.

I present myself to the control point and then I'm lead through the corridors to the visits areas. I have to wait sitting on an uncomfortable chair, on the other side of a glass panel. Ten minutes later my mother appears escorted by a guard in a blue jumpsuit.

I have to say that in spite of prison time has been sweet to her features, she preserved her soft face and beauty, her green eyes lost the sparkle of life they used to have on the good days; her hair lost its beautiful golden shade. She has a few wrinkles but time seems to be reluctant to age her. I don't look a lot like her but there's a faint resemblance, I took after my father. Now Hazel, my little sister, she could be our mother's twin.

We both pick the phone receivers on our sides and wait for one of us to speak.

"I wasn't expecting you," she states. My mother is Irish and in spite of all the years she spent away from her native land she never lost her accent. It always seems more pronounce when I visit her, but I know it's only due to the fact that I don't hear her voice often. I remember asking her once why she spoke 'funny' – I was very young then, and she said she didn't, she just cherished her accent because it was her own way to be close to her family.

"Yeah, sorry."

"No don't be, it's a pleasant surprise."

After my father's murder, we haven't really been in contact with our mother, at least not during the two first years, when she was institutionalised in an asylum, the psychologists thought it'd be better for us and her to stay apart. But my brother Charlie made sure we kept contact with her, he taught us that no matter what happened we were a family, with its scars and dirty secrets, but a family nonetheless. Our mother protected us the way she thought was the best, of course what she did was wrong, but she did it for us. He said that we should never turn our back to any member of our family, we are to stay together no matter what.

So he made us wrote to her twice a week, a habit we never lost, then we were able to visit her when she was transferred to the penitentiary. She has always told us to write her instead of visiting her, thinking we should focus on our lives rather than on her, truth is that she's ashamed to be in prison and doesn't want her children witnessing her decaying inside the system. But in spite of her demands she does cherishes our visits preciously.

I can't really say we have a great relationship, how could we? We've spent the last 21 years speaking to each other through a thick glass panel for twenty minutes maximum each time, we are close strangers at best, sharing some memories and odd affection.

She always has a gentle expression and a soft smile when she looks at me.

"You look exhausted," she observes. "Sleep trouble?"

"Yeah, hard to sleep lately with the constant images of you killing your husband, filling my mind as soon as I close my eyes." I reply coldly, not wasting anytime to press where it hurts, there's no use to pretend this is a social call. Her face loses the little warmth it was sporting immediately and she starts looking at me with cold, emotionless eyes.

"Is it why you came? To talk about that?"

"Yeah, why not?" I say through clenched teeth. "I'm thirty four years old and we never talked about it."

She shrugs impassively. "Talk away then, because I don't see what I could say."

"You don't see what you could say?" I repeat irritated. "You don't see what you could say about the fact that your ruined our lives… my life? You don't see what could say about abandoning us? Do you even realize what the living hell you put us through? How messed up I am because of you? How I can't even entertain any normal relationship because of all I had to go through? How I can't sleep because I always hear the screams, the beatings, how I always smell the blood on me and see you stabbing him over and over again?"

"Again, what do you want me to say?" ask without any emotion.

"Don't you fucking care at all?"

She shakes her head slowly. "No, I don't care Sara," she states. "That's what you wanted to hear isn't it? Then, I don't care, I never did," she shrugs and even if I know it's a lie it doesn't quiet my rage. "Satisfied?" she asks rhetorically. "Now go on and whine to the world how your life is miserable like you were the only one on earth to have ever suffered," she says flatly.

"Don't you dare mocking me!" I almost shout.

"What do you want me to say Sara?"

"You know what I want!"

"No I don't," she states firmly. Despite her apparent calm I know she's upset, her eyes let me know that much. "I've just spent the last 21 years locked up like some animal, not having control on anything but my breathing. My children, my life, everything has been taken away from me. Actions have consequences, and I completely assume what I did that night. I only find solace in the knowledge that the sacrifice…the choice I made that night was for the best and that all of you made it out okay in spite of the rough start," her voice is still even.

"I'm not okay, mom! I'm a mess! I'm fucked up! And all of that is because of you!" I reply hotly.

"Your cowardice floors me."

"Fuck you, okay? Fuck you! You don't know me."

"Don't you ever talk to me like that!" this time she snaps. Her eyes are dark with anger and her voice sharp as ice, but her tone stays even and her accent very thick. "I never tolerate for any of you to talk to me on that tone, ever, I won't tolerate it now," she warns me.

I swallow my pride and acknowledge her reprimand. There are lines not to be crossed, that's what she's always taught us, and I stepped onto one.

"I can't believe you wasted 21 years of your life dwelling on the past, has it ever been useful?" she asks. "Uh? Did it ever help you in any way to pity yourself?"

I stare at her, my eyes blurry with angry tears.

"Well, answer me," she pushes, then sighs at my persistent silence. "There's absolutely nothing to expect from the past, you can't change it, so accept it and move on. What do you think? You're the only one to have a crappy start in life? People everywhere live worse, and they move on. Everybody has moved on, your brothers, your sister, why can't you? What do you expect brooding over the past like you do?"

I still don't answer, too enraged to even control my voice. I'm so mad at her right now, at the detached way she's taking everything, at the fact that she doesn't care about what I feel.

"You have to stop using the past as a preformatted excuse for everything that went wrong in your life, everything you failed just because it was easier to give up than even try," she sighs again. "It's easy to blame me and if it makes you happy then go ahead and keep on this road. When you're tired of it, grow up and get on with your life, you've wasted 21 years already," and with that she pulls the receiver away from her ear.

"Don't walk out on me!" I growl before she hangs up.

"I have nothing else to say."

"Well I do," I spit. "I hate you."

She doesn't even flinch at my words, but her eyes tell me that the barb was effective as she just nods. "Do me a favour, next time you want a pity party, save yourself a trip," she adds, hangs up before I can even reply and stands.

"Mom! Mom!" I exclaim through my receiver as if she could hear me, but she just walks away. I slam the receiver in its cradle.

I hate her, with all my being, I hate her.

xxxxx

I came back home angrier than before, a no matter how many things I hit the rage kept burning through my vain. I stormed in the house and retreated to my bedroom immediately not even acknowledging anybody on my way there.

They say you have to fight the fire by the fire, once in the confinement of my room I let out the pain the only way I know how, self inflicting pain.

Now I'm curled into a ball on my bed begging for those feelings raging in me to stop, crying silently.

I don't know how much time passes before particular knocks land softly on my door. Each of my siblings has their particular way to knock, it was like a recognition sign between us. One thing we never had with our father around was intimacy, the doors were never to be closed to him; so when we started living alone it's one of the most important rule we applied, everyone have their personal space and no one trespasses that space without prior authorization. For some reason everybody had their way to knock, it stuck with time, now it's a signature for each one of us. So even though my back is to the door I know that Rueben is behind it.

"Go away," I snivel. There's a long silence and my door is opened and my demand ignored.

I don't turn around, but my baby brother closes the door behind him and sits on my bed uninvited. One of his hands start caressing my hair which only make me cry a bit more.

After a few minutes he stands up and that's when I realise that in spite of my need to be alone I'm yearning for his comforting touch. He stands up and wanders in the upside down room – courtesy of my temper – and retrieves the first aid kit. Considering that our childhood wasn't made of butterflies and rainbow everyday, each room has a first aid kit so we could take care of ourselves as much as possible, hospital trips only meant harder punishment afterwards.

He comes back and this time he sits in front of me.

"Let's clean you up," he says matter-of-factly. I refuse to move a bit peeved that he knows what I did without me giving away anything, that he knows me that well. "Come on, don't be petty and let me clean your wounds," he says before grabbing one of my arms delicately but I pull away.

"I'm the eldest here, so don't talk to me like a baby," I protest.

"I will when you stop acting like one."

"Bite me."

He sighs deeply "Buzz, don't make me call Charlie."

"You wouldn't," I sniff.

"Try me."

I sit up against the bed post and cross my arms on my chest, I pout for a minute then extend one arm to him.

"Good girl," he gives me a pinched smile before rolling my sleeve up, the bloody lines my black sweater was concealing are revealed. He blinks quickly, the only sign that he's affected by the sight of my wounded flesh, then focuses on the first aid kit and his task at hand.

Rueben is the first one who noticed my bad habit, and for all I know he's the only one because I've always been good at hiding it, somehow he could always tell when I had given in. At the time it all started, Charlie and Russell were struggling to make sure we stayed together, providing the rest of us food and everything we could need. I never wanted to be another source of trouble so I convinced Rueben to keep my habit our little secret and for all I know he always did. Things might be better now, I still don't want either of my big brothers to find out about it.

"When did you get back?" I ask trying to ignore the elephant in the room.

"This afternoon."

"How did it go?"

"Good, Russell got the order so everything's good."

His movements are delicate and precise on my skin. He doesn't say it but he wishes I could find another outlet for my emotional distress.

"Talk to me," he orders gently.

"I went to see mom, I told her how angry I was."

"Angry about what?"

"Everything, about what she did, about the fact that she left us and we're paying for it."

"You got to let go," he states quietly.

"You sound like her," I snort bitterly.

"She protected us, she gave her life away for us…"

"Oh yeah some great hero she was…"

"It's always about you, isn't it?" he snaps visibly upset. "You weren't the only one to have a tough childhood you know. We all did, we suffered too. And we had to grow up by ourselves too," he declares with a calmer tone. "Look at us," he smiles. "We're together, we had a lot of obstacles to overcome and we did it. We could have turned out a lot worse, we have a united family, and I don't think we are bad persons."

Silent tears are running down my face as I take his words in.

"I'm not saying to forget, we haven't, we're all haunted by it and we all have scars never to forget. But we left the past behind us. You should do the same and stop being angry, and let go," I asks me softly. Then he stands and starts to walk to the door. "Clean your room, then come down with everybody."

I reach him before he opens the door and wrap my arms around his shoulders and hold him tightly. "I love you Bunny."

He whines, "You had to call me that," he chuckles.

"You'll always be my little bunny," I tease him with a wavering voice. He hangs his head down in defeat and puts one hand on my arm and leans against me.

"I love you too Buzz," he reaches behind with his other hand to pat me gently on the head. "Come on, hurry up, I think Charlie said he was about to cook."

"Please, somebody help us avoiding that disaster."

We both laugh softly, I kiss his cheek and release him. "You go ahead, I'll be down in five."

He just nods before leaving my room.

I clean the mess I have done, putting my room in it's original position. Then I seat on my bed with my cell phone in hand, I dial several times the same number but never push the button 'call'. I take a deep breath and dial again then place the call. It only rings three times before someone picks up.

"_Willows residence."_

My mouth dries up immediately and my voice is prisoner of my throat, it's like I was chocking. I don't think I was ready for the effect Catherine's voice would have on me right now.

"_Hello?"_

I close my eyes, feeling dizzy from my speeding heartbeat. I can't…I want to talk to her, but I can't. I'm even wondering why I called in the first place.

"_Hello?"_

I hang up without saying a word, my palms are sweaty and I'm out of breath even though I haven't moved from my sitting position. I shake my head quickly, I compose myself again and then go join my family downstairs.

xxxxx

I'm nervously waiting on the same uncomfortable chair in which I was sitting on three days earlier. I'm looking around apprehensively.

I see the blue suit of my mother's uniform first, then she appears in front of me. She sighs softly, even though she has still her usual gentle expression, I can see sadness in her eyes. After a second of hesitation she sits down and picks up her receiver, I mimic her and we stare at each other.

She takes a deep breath before speaking. "If you're expecting an apology, then let's cut it short, it's not going to happen," she declares firmly but with a calm voice. "I won't apologize for telling you what I think, for being honest."

"I don't…" I whisper. "I don't want an apology."

She nods in response and stares at me, waiting for me to let her know why I'm here. I'm not sure why I'm here myself, there are so many things I want to say. I've been thinking a lot, about what she said, about what Rueben said, and I conclude that maybe I've been getting it all wrong.

I rest one arm on the table in front of me and lean on the elbow that holds the receiver.

"I'm six or perhaps seven…it's a sunny day and we're all playing in the yard," I start, holding on fiercely onto the memory. "You're chasing us…and we are laughing…and, and when you catch us you do that thing…you know…swirl us in the air while holding us by the arms," I look at her with hope, hope that she hasn't forgotten.

"The magic spin," she provides with warmth.

"Yeah, that one," I smile with a sigh, my chest tightens a bit as a hot wave of affection travels through my veins like a caress.

"It's funny, because your brothers would always watch how their feet were moving in the air, but you…you'd look at the sky," she provides.

"I'd really feel like flying then," I reveal her. It hits me that it's actually the first time ever that I share a memory with my mother, that we share some kind of intimacy. "My head was still spinning so fast when you put me down that I was unsteady on my feet," she grins a little, probably losing herself with enthusiasm in the precious memory. "But...you'd never…you'd never let me fall…you…you'd catch me, wrapping your arms around my shoulder from behind and keeping…keeping me grounded, close to you…safe."

She subtly nods but doesn't say anything, just watches me tenderly.

"I still can hear you laughing softly as you held me…I feel your lips on my temple…it felt… better than I can express."

Her eyes are filled with sadness again, she's struggling to stay compose. I wish there wasn't this glass panel between us, because it feels as if she was close and yet on the other side of the world.

"I'm so angry because…it's like my head has been spinning for the past 21 years and I've been falling, each time further down and more painfully than the previous. No matter how hard it tried, it's like I've never been able to be grounded on my feet, not as grounded as when you held me."

I take a shaky breath to keep my emotions in check. Those are things I've never said; those words, like sharp knives have been making my heart abundantly and relentlessly bleed ever since everything went awry.

"I'm so angry, because they took you away from us when he was the one to hurt us… I'm so angry…" I start again. "…because I miss you," I finally confess.

Letting go of the past, meant facing my anger and acknowledging the core of it. Truth to be told, I'm hurt deeply and anger was the best way for me to deal with it, because anger was a good fuel to keep me moving forward or at least push me in that direction. Anger is always easier to feel than hurt, it keeps you alive, it gives you an illusion of strength; it ignites a fire that only you can ever tame or kill. But for all that anger gives you, it sucks the life out of you, drains you from your energy and it smothers, taints any good and positive feelings that might take place in your heart.

"I missed having you by my side, to tell me that things would be okay; to comfort me when I feared he was still there and ready to hurt me; to be proud when I graduated; to be there…just there and remind me that we're doing alright; I miss my mother," I avow with tears burning tracks on my skin. "I miss you mom."

Her face is disturbed by pain, and even though her eyes are dry I know she's feeling as much sorrow if not more than I do.

"I've always been waiting for you to catch me, like you used to…" I sniff.

She opens her mouth but the only thing coming out is a strangled whimper, she pulls the receiver from her ear for a few seconds and looks away, she covers her eyes and takes deep breaths, then looks at me again.

"I know that...I stole our time together away from us with what I did, and there's not a single day I don't regret being away from you…all of you," she pauses.

"You've always been the stubborn one…" she chuckles quietly. "You always had to do things on your own…never asking for help…just to prove you could do it…"

Yep, that's me.

She takes a moment to order her thoughts.

"He used to say that we were all weak…but he was a bloody idiot," she says. "It takes much more strength to admit your weakness than one would think," she finally adds. "And you are strong Sara, stronger than you believe," her voice is firm and assured, she's looking at me as if to say that I shouldn't doubt her. "One day, hopefully, I'll be there to catch you again. But you have to understand that it's okay to lean on others, to trust them to catch you."

A new flow of tears pours out of my eyes as I nod at her words.

"Mom…" I start with a tear filled voice. "The other day…what I said…I don't…" I start, struggling with my words.

"I know," she smiles tenderly.

I start to sob uncontrollably when the guard comes closer to her to take her back. I feel like losing her all over again, my heart is so tightened that I have a hard time to breathe.

"Buzz," she calls me affectionately, which only double my tears. "I got to go," she states the obvious, she looks as sad as I feel. I curse that glass between us because more than ever before I'm yearning to be in my mother's arms and to have her caressing my hair, just like before. "Take care of yourself, please," she asks before pulling the receiver away.

"Mom…" I speak again and she puts the receiver back against her ear. "I…I…" words come out like choked moans. "I…" I look at her with distress not ready for her to go. "I…"

The words refuse to leave my throat even though all my being is screaming them. I've been keeping them to deeply buried inside of me for at least thirty years, I know I want to let them out today, I want her to know, but it's painful and my voice is failing me. "I…" I try again.

She puts a delicate hand on the glass and smile. "I love you too little bee," she simply answers. "I love you too."

She hangs up and the guard puts her to her feet; I watch, powerless, as she's being taken away from me yet again.

I break down, and sob harder, covering my eyes with the hand that isn't holding the receiver.

After several minutes, I exit the building. No matter how deeply I breathe I feel like choking. I reach my car, and keep crying against the steering wheel for long minutes. For an unknown reason I reach my phone and simply push the button call to reiterate my last call. After the fifth ring I'm about to hang up, but then someone answer.

"_Willows residence,"_ says a sleepy voice.

I close my eyes tightly and mentally curse myself for waking her up. Yet I don't say anything.

"_Hello?"_ she repeats before yawning.

I lean my head against the wheel again, words have definitely deserted me. I honestly don't know why I keep calling her anyway since I'm always unable to utter a single word.

"_Sara?"_ Catherine asks. I'm taken a back by the mention of my name. I've been calling at her home and I know she doesn't have the caller ID there. _"I…"_ she sighs. _"I don't know if you're the one who's been calling lately or if it's even you right now…but I chose to believe it's the case,"_ she states.

"_I hope you're fine…I can only suppose that you have things to go through on your own…I…there's something I never told you, I should have told you…I know…that our relationship is often rocky…but… whatever you need…anything, to talk…to share silence…anything really…you can count on me…I'm… I'm here for you."_

I smother a sob and put the phone away from me for a second. I'm crying again, it seems like it's the only thing I can do properly.

"_Hello?" _Catherine calls again. _"Are you there?"_

"Hey," I finally whisper with a shaky voice.

I hear her sucking a breath in, probably relieved to find out that she was right about me being the one who called, or simply surprised I talked at all.

"_Hey,"_ she whispers back.

Neither of us speaks for the next few seconds. I guess she's waiting for me to talk again. I know I want to talk to her but everything is jumbled and I can't grasp any thought properly, so I decide to go with the simplest. "Thank you," I say before hanging up.

I straighten up and lean against the headrest; my eyes are closed, tears still silently rolling over my cheeks. I focus on my irregular heartbeat and let all my confused emotions wash over me. Those last days have been a hell of a ride and I feel drained, exhausted. It also feels like a weight had been lifted from my chest. My long lasting anger as been reduces to fumes.

I have yet to learn to feel and deal with all the rest.

* * *

******_'Life is not designed for our comfort but for our struggle, for in struggle there is growth...'_ (I'm sorry I don't remember who said it first, but it's not from me that's for sure :P )**

**When Sara speaks about her favorite animated character I'm making reference to _Daria_, my very favorite animation serie. (I've got to be direct, la la la, if I'm wrong please correct...you're standing on my neck... \m/ oh yeah!...hum sorry I'm getting off tracks)**

**Yeah, I hesitated a lot, because at first I wanted to cut this chap in two but I decided against, this is why the chap is extra long. I needed all the different scenes to be there even though they might seem to fit awkward together, like I always say, I have a plan.**

**Now, I have a little announcement to make, the NaNoWriMo starts this week-end and I intend to participate this year (woohoo!) so there might be a delay before the next update, but I'll do my best to update.**

**Enough rambling, Frostie's out. :P**

**Thanks for reading.**


	19. Chapter 19

**Hi everybody, I'm taking a little break from the NaNoWriMo, to provide you with a little update. Thank you all for your reviews, you made my day, yet again :). **

**Enjoy,**

**So ;)**

**ps: **FloatingInMoon** welcome back on board, it sure has been a long time, but I'm glad to have you back ;)**

**

* * *

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Chapter 19

_Catherine's POV_

I watch Sara climbing in a cab, leaving my house…leaving me.

I have this fear in the pit of my stomach, like this was the very last time I'll ever see Sara again. I couldn't explain where it comes from; it's just a weird feeling.

I wish she hadn't left, but I'm happy she stayed that long. I had to use every trick I know to keep her from going home; of course she didn't resist much. After our session I brought her to my place, I didn't want her to be alone, I wanted to be there for her, not especially to talk, but… I don't know, I wanted to protect her, from what, I couldn't say, but the mere idea of her being alone after such an emotional session was just unbearable.

I know our relationship is still in definition but I've learned a lot about her since we've started our therapy, I'm not just talking about her past or her point of view on our issues. I mean I've learnt a lot about her as a human being and even if we don't completely get along, I've learnt to like that person.

Trust was our latest issue, but now I have no doubt that she trusts me. She had to trust me to let me be there for her albeit just a little. I acknowledge her effort, I'm really touched to be honest, more than touched even.

I couldn't explain it but there's this…odd bound between us. This bound is the reason why she can affect me that much, or the reason why I turn to her when I feel lost, why I seek her presence in particular.

"Morning mom, what's all this?" Lindsey's voice startles me out of my reflection.

"Sara was bored," I simply state. Her face darkens at my statement, and if admittedly I'm not the brightest person after waking up, I can honestly say I don't understand her sudden change of mood.

"Where is she?" she asks with that emotionless tone she uses lately.

"She just left," saying it out loud makes my heart constrict itself in my chest in a unpleasant way. "We had a little chat, then she had to go."

"So, she said goodbye," she mutters.

"No need, we're going to see each other again in a few hours," I try to convince myself.

Lindsey nods then we have a pleasant breakfast together. Today is one of these days I have the chance to spend completely with my daughter. I'm glad that her and I have an open relationship, we talk a lot and easily, it's been hard to reach that point but it was worth every bit of it.

After that I go to work with a little apprehension, something I don't really understand. When I enter the break room and don't see Sara, I finally grasp why I was apprehensive, I was afraid my feeling of this morning, the fear that I wouldn't see her again, would turn out to be true.

The boys arrive and when Grissom appears in the doorway to hand over assignments I know Sara won't come.

"Good evening everyone. We are one team mate short, Sara is on leave for an undetermined time. So I know we might have a lot to do but let's keep it together and just so we keep our head out of the water Woody from the swing team will be available starting tomorrow. We're all going solo except for Catherine and Warrick, I want you to team up. Everybody, grab a magic pink slip and rock on," he simply announces.

My brain stayed stuck on the 'on leave for an undetermined time,' part of his speech. It like ice was surrounding me at this instant, I feel like I've been abandoned. When I go to the locker room and open my locker only to find it exactly how I left it, I try really hard to hide the disappointment and hurt at the fact that she didn't left a note.

She hasn't called either, I don't mind her going away, I mean she doesn't owe me anything and she doesn't answer to me. But I guess I was expecting a little 'don't worry, everything's ok' message, or anything just to know that she cares enough about me to be that considerate toward me. I know it's childish, but after what we've share in the past 48h I didn't want that special connexion between us to be broken.

I hold myself back until our 'lunch' break, then I call Sara. I try not to sound too worried or invasive, I just tell her that I hope she's okay and that I'll call her back later. I let the same message on her cell and at her home, just to be sure she knows I'm here for her if she needs me.

The day is awfully long since my mind refuse to leave Sara. When I get home I'm even more disappointed not to fine any sign of life from Sara. As a result my worry soon turns into anger. A good thing I'm starting to have a better hold on myself, so I know better than to call her again and yell at her that I think she's selfish, instead I just stew on my own. It's not really better considering everything, but I know it's the most rational thing to do.

xxxxx

"Nice shirt," my sister states before taking a sip of her coffee. "A little big on you though."

I don't bother reacting to her comment, it's been almost a week since I've last seen or heard about Sara, needless to say those days felt like dragging on and on. And this morning I decide to put on Sara's shirt, the one I borrowed her the last time I was at her place. I have washed it since, of course, but in spite of it I can make out Sara's scent. I guess that after tasting her skin several times my mind can recreate her fragrance at will. Wearing her shirt allows me to be close to her.

Being close to her…

"So…who's mister Lucky?" Nancy asks. "Or should I say, Miss," she arcs an eyebrow and grin.

"No one," I shrug.

"Really? Cause I know for sure that shirt doesn't belong to me."

"No, it belongs to Sara."

She snorts. "Well, paint me surprise."

"It's not what you think. I ruined a shirt at work and I didn't have any change so I borrow hers. I haven't returned it back yet, obviously."

Okay, I know it's a white lie but I don't want to go through the details of my undefined physical relationship with Nancy.

"I see…so no particular reason for you to wear it."

"None of the ones that your pervert mind is coming up with. It's the first thing I grabbed this morning."

She just watches me with her trademark grin. I hate that grin, it mean she knows thing or rather think that she knows something, or has an idea. Anyway, I hate that grin.

"What?" I ask her.

"How is it going with Sara?"

I sigh, I guess it's one thing for me to be down just thinking about Sara but another to feel hurt when I have to talk about her.

"Oh…touchy subject," she winces a bit.

"Nah, it's just that she's been absent for the past days and isn't exactly forthcoming when it comes to give signs of life."

"I see."

"Yeah, anyway, that's Sara," I close the subject.

"Okay," she surrenders even though she can feel that I'm not telling her everything. "So, there's nothing new under the sun on this department?" she gets back on track.

"No," I answer in a whisper.

"Well…in that case I know someone…"

"Nance, please, you have to stop doing that," I sigh with exasperation.

"Oh come on, don't be hostile about it, I just want you to be happy…and you could at least give her a chance, Julianne is…"

I laugh and shake my head. She's unbelievable. "What? I know I'm slow sometimes but I'm not blind."

"I know, it's just…having you hooking me up with men is one thing cause I know I have bad tastes, now I don't think I like your statement here," I chuckle. Maybe I should think about being desperate.

"Smartass, you know that not what I meant."

"Nance," I whine. "You need to stop, seriously. Besides I think I deserve a break. I can't go on just dating, I need to find someone for the long run. And I'm tired to run after it so I think I'll let it come to me."

"Cath…"

"No, I'm serious. I've been with bad people worse than Eddie, I've been with good people who didn't want to get settled…right now I don't want anything but my family and friends."

It's true, I don't have the energy to have a turn or two on a merry-go-round. I want to give time to Lindsey now that I can, be there for my friends, work on my friendship with Sara…

"Well…I kind of promised her a date from you."

"Oh, man! Nancy!"

"Please, do me that one favour then I promise I'll leave you alone for good."

"But I don't want to…" I pout like a kid.

"Pleeeeeaaaase," she singsongs. "Jules' great, she's witty, fun, smart, gorgeous…"

"Noooo," I echo her and make a face. "You go out on a date with her, if she's so good, besides that'll teach you to take liberty with my dating agenda," I tease her.

"There were no sparks, that's why I promised her a date with you."

"I can't…"

"I told her you were working a lot so you can wait a month or two…please pretty, pretty please."

I just let out an unpleasant breath and let my head fall on the counter top with a thump. "Fine…" I mumble defeated. Then something comes back to me. "Hold on...what did you mean 'no sparks'?"

She just chuckles and stands up. "I let her number on your fridge. I have to go get the boys from practice. Catch you later," she winks at me.

"Wait, are you saying…"

"Come on big sis, you're getting paid for figuring things out. Love you," she throws over her shoulders with a laugh.

I can't believe I'm so busy with my work life that I miss the hottest details from my own sister's life. Oh man, I hate being out of the loop.

xxxxx

I'm staring at my ceiling, thinking that maybe all the answers are there, only I can't translate them right…yet.

Yesterday we had a session with Adam. I say 'we' but I was the only one to show up. To be honest I thought that Sara would come out of her retreat and show up at least for therapy. To say I was disappointed would be an understatement.

oOo

"_Hello, Catherine," Adam greeted me._

"_Hey," I answered politely before looking at the door again. Maybe if I focused enough Sara would cross the door._

_After ten minutes of staring at the stupid door, I felt something in me crack. She hadn't return any call and beyond the worry I was deeply hurt by her behaviour._

"_I think Sara won't be joining us today," Adam finally state. He's never been really keen where lateness is concerned._

"_Maybe I should go," I said, ready to bolt out of his office._

"_You don't have to, now that you here we could talk."_

"_I don't see the point, I mean, I can't work on my relationship with Sara if Sara's not there," I shrug._

"_Do I scare you?" he asked me._

"_No," I shrugged. "Why are you asking?"_

"_You have that deer in the headlight nervous look and you seem more than ready to dash out of my office."_

_I sighed. "It's…I've never been to therapy before…on my own I mean."_

"_We've been seeing each other on regular basis for the past what? Six months?"_

"_Seven now."_

"_Seven," he corrects himself even though I'm pretty sure the real answer all along._

"_Don't you think we've become intimate now? You've talked to me several times before, so what's different?"_

"_Yes, but Sara was almost always there. _

"_Almost."_

"_And it's different to start without her, usually she's always been there for the beginning."_

"_Fair point."_

"_It feels like cheating," I ramble._

"_Cheating?"_

"_Yeah, we'__re having a three way relationship, and when one of us isn't there then it's like cheating on the other, I think."_

"_We're in a relationship yes, so I owe you honesty, Sara and I cheated on you when you missed our session."_

_I chuckle. "So I should settle the score?" I joked._

"_I didn't say that. You don't have to talk if you don't want to."_

"_It's weird without Sara here."_

"_Her absence is affecting you," he stated more than asked._

_Nice observation Einstein, I thought to myself. "I don't like feeling like this…"_

"_How do you feel?"_

"_Vulnerable… I guess," I shrugged._

"_Not many people do," he declared._

"_Can I take it back?"_

"_Sure."_

"_I don't feel vulnerable, I feel…useless," I started. "…and guilty…"_

_I looked upward to gather my thoughts. "Last session when we talked about… Sara's reaction to domestic violence case…it gave me a lot to think about…" I passed a hand over my face. "I realised that…I never bothered…with Sara I mean."_

_I struggled with my words, he knew it and gave me as much time as I needed, he knew I was on tracks that now it was up to me to work things out by talking about it._

"_We all have issues. Everybody does, I know that. What I mean is…" I paused. "I've always reached out to my other team mates. I care about everybody, not just as co-workers, but as human beings too, they are more than my friends, they are my second family. So I've always reached out to them when I felt something was annoying them. But I never reached out to Sara, not the way I did with the others."_

_I lost myself in thoughts for a few seconds. "I couldn't say if it was because of the whole Holly thing, or just the fact that I felt threatened by Sara on some levels…I just… never bothered."_

"_I've always cared about her, I mean even with our strained relationship I never wished anything bad happening to her," I clarified. "But…"_

"_You never cared outside the work boundaries."_

"_Yeah."_

"_That day…Andrew Melton's case day, when I asked her what was bothering her…I wasn't asking out of care. I was just being petty. She was giving me attitude and even then I was holding myself back, but she kept pushing. Then she threw a barb, one of those saying she thought she was better than me, and that did it."_

"_You were angry."_

"_Pissed off," I confirmed. "I can be a real bit…" I trailed off and correct myself. "I can be really cruel when I want to be," I announced. "I had spotted Ecklie in the lab, that's when she got all superior on me. That day when I asked her why she went of deep end with those cases… it wasn't because I cared, it was just because I knew she'd lost it. I… I hadn't foreseen her crossing such a line."_

_I sighed deeply. I've been keeping this to myself for years. All this time I've let people think that it was a bad coincidence that Ecklie was near by when Sara and I had our worse argument. When the truth is that I'm responsible for everything._

"_Anyway… point is that I never bothered really caring about Sara."_

_I buried my face in my hands for a moment just so I could stop feeling so horrible. "After Nick's abduction we all got closer, and even Sara and I of course it didn't change our relationship but I started to really care. Therapy changed things even more. Now I know that I truly care about her. But…"I paused. "But until a few days, I hadn't realized just how much I did."_

_Those words sounded weird out loud, I thought._

"_I care a lot about her," I said firmly. "Weird thing is that…Sometimes I feel like I can't handle it."_

"_You can't handle it?" Adam asked. I took a lot of self control on my part not to tell him that I hated when he was doing his 'parrot' routine. The way he would just repeat one part of what I had just said, I knew it was to keep me on track or just so I could ponder my own words. I knew it was useful, but nevertheless annoying._

"_We share a lot in therapy, we get vulnerable with each other…we let the other see things we've never let anyone else see… we are intimate at a level that is so deep and…intense…" I struggled "And then this… intimacy goes on outside of therapy… and then… without warning it goes away," talking about it made my throat shrink with emotion._

_I took a deep breath before going on. "It's one thing to take distance from one another after a fight, then the distance is needed just so we get over our pride and everything. But when there's a distance after having been so close to one another… it hurts," I finally confessed. "It hurts so much that it makes me feel empty."_

_I glanced at Adam, he was watching me impassively like he usually did; for once I wish I could have seen understanding on his face, not that indecipherable expression of his._

"_It's not really that I can't handle caring about her, but rather that I can't handle the distance that is so often between us. There's no continuity… and I need that. I care about her and yet she doesn't let me be there for her, at least not all the time. And if I'm not the one taking the lead, she doesn't turn to me naturally, like she's doubting that I want to be here for her."_

"_Have you told her?" Adam asked._

"_Told her what?"_

"_That you cared."_

"_Yes," I replied in a whisper._

"_Have you told her in those exact terms?"_

_I was about to answer that yes I had but I was having doubt about it. "I think she knows I do."_

_He took a moment to choose his words carefully, as always. "It is true that gestures or sometimes even silences speak louder than words. But words do have their use, whether to explain a gesture or reaffirm the meaning of it."_

"_I'm not sure to understand," I admitted. Even though he was speaking with regular phrases Adam was a bit like Yoda, seemingly deep wisdom but hard to understand._

"_Your daughter loves you, and you know it, right?"_

"_Yes," I frowned, really not seeing the point of bringing Lindsey in the conversation._

"_Doesn't it feel better to hear her say so?"_

_And the light came…_

"_Sara may know that you care and that you're here for her, but reminding her so when… you feel that she could use a friend might help her not to forget."_

oOo

I must have fallen asleep after getting lost in my thoughts, because the ring of the phone wakes me up. At the third ring I know it might be work which just gives me even less incentive to pick it up. But I know Grissom, if he dares to call me during my resting time, it means he'll leave the phone ring for over an hour if it's the only way for him to get an answer from me.

"Willows residence," I answer with a sleepy voice. I was expecting Grissom's apologetic tone but there's nothing but silence.

"Hello?" I repeat with a yawn. But no one answers and that gets my wit together, I sit up and focus.

My heart starts to beat faster. I've been having those calls lately, somebody calls me but never says anything then they hang up. Those are odd phone calls, but somewhere in my guts I know that there's no danger behind it. I couldn't explain and it took me some time to understand that it was like whoever was on the other side was waiting for me to say the right thing. And that's why after the third phone call I started to suspect, or maybe just hope that it was Sara.

"Sara?" I ask tentatively, maybe my instincts were wrong about the whole thing. But then I take the fact that whoever it is, is still online as a sign that I wasn't wrong. _"I…"_ I sigh.

_Sara may know that you care and that you're here for her, but reminding her so when… you feel that she could use a friend might help her not to forget…_

Adam's words resound in my head. Somehow though, at the moment it seems easier said than done. But then again, isn't it worth it?

"I don't know if you're the one who's been calling lately or if it's even you right now…but I chose to believe it's the case," I start.

"I hope you're fine…I can only suppose that you have things to go through on your own…I…there's something I never told you, I should have told you…" I'm severely struggling with my words "I know…that our relationship is often rocky…but… whatever you need…anything, to talk…to share silence…anything really…you can count on me…I'm… I'm here for you."

For the first time I hear something else other than my voice and silence. It's something like a whimper, hard to tell since my heart is pounding so loudly.

"Hello?"I call. "Are you there?"

"_Hey,"_ I hear Sara's weak and shaky voice.

I gasp and hold myself from talking, giving her room and time to speak. I can say that I'm relieved to know that I was right, that she's the one who was calling me. Maybe I was wrong about her not turning to me, I guess she just needed to make things at her own space.

"Hey," I echo.

I wait, not wanting to scare her off. She heard me so she knows I care and that I'm here for her. So now I have to let her take the next step on her own.

"_Thank you,"_ she finally says before hanging up.

I'm a bit taken aback by the abrupt end of our conversation but I can't shake the bigger feeling that is filling me now, it's a mix of relief and euphoria.

She called me, she reached out for me, and that's worth more than I could ever express.

I let myself fall back against the pillows and close my eyes with a little grin on my face, feeling a bit better than earlier.

xxxxx

"Coming," I mumble to myself as I dry finish putting the last my dishes away in cupboards.

I go to the door and push one bang of hair out of my face. I open the door and my heart stops, Sara is standing on my doorstep. A whole week has gone by since her phone call, a week during which I moped in spite of all my efforts.

Adam had a point when he said that I should remind Sara, or rather tell her that I cared. I think that she needed to hear me say that much. Her warm and heart felt 'thank you' told me so. But what he had conveniently forgot to mention was that telling her that I care and that I'm here for her, didn't mean that she'd actually accept my offer, that things wouldn't necessarily change all the sudden. I had to figure that for myself the hard way, because after that only 'real' phone call Sara stopped calling altogether, which led me to think that maybe somehow by doing the right thing I had yet managed to screw things up.

But here she is, standing in front of me, her skin is slightly tanned, her hair is a bit longer and a little curly on the end, and the brown of her eyes seem richer than the last time I saw them.

Once I'm over my shock, I don't give her a chance to say anything as I take her in my arms and hold her tight. I breathe out deeply, feeling like the weight of the world had been lifted off my chest. I feel her wrapping her arms slowly around me, putting one hand on my back and the other behind my head. She holds me to her firmly. I feel her lean her face against my head, and delivering a butterfly kiss on my temple.

"I'm back," she whispers and I tighten my embrace at her words. Being in her arms makes me realize something I haven't told to Adam, her absence made me feel like I had lost her for good. No words could express how deeply relieved I feel right now to know that she's back, not only in Vegas but in my life.

I pull back and look at her again, I know my eyes are watery but I'm holding back my tears. She rests the palm of her hand against my cheek, the contact is warm and comforting. I want to tell her, that I missed her more than word can say, I want to tell her that I'm happy that she's back.

My mind is swirling with words, but I decide to go with my instincts, I slowly lean toward her and capture her lips delicately. I let out a sigh of contentment when I feel her kissing me back, my fists close themselves on her shirt at her reaction. I break the kiss and we look at each other.

"Welcome back," I tell her softly. She doesn't reply and just lean her forehead against mine.

I take a step back, I let go of her shirt and grab one of her hands before leading her inside. I've been yearning for her to tell me everything, where she was and what happened. But once inside we don't talk, just share silence around a coffee before lying down in my bed, holding each other as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Words can wait a while longer.

* * *

**For those who wonders, no the therapy isn't over, I chose to break the pattern, not only because I can (after all I'm the master in command :P) but also because it was necessary to keep my plan in motion.**

**I shall come back (or at least try) before the end of november.**

**Thanks for reading.**


	20. Chapter 20

**I'm in a Editing Craze since I'm having a writer's block, and this chapter came on my chopping block... anyway,**

**Enjoy,**

**So ;)**

* * *

**Chapter 20**

_Sara's POV_

I suck a long drag out of my cigarette and let the smoke burning my throat. The evening sun is bathing everything with a quiet and soothing orange light. I take a deep breath before exhaling the smoke in one long breath.

I came back to Vegas earlier today, I didn't go to my apartment, I drove straight to Catherine's house. I couldn't describe the yearning I had to see her, but it made sense then. I spent five minutes in front of her closed door, afraid she wouldn't be okay with my presence here, afraid that I'll be intruding her… I don't know I needed to be here and yet I was afraid.

But once she opened the door…well … all doubts flew threw the window. I don't think an embrace ever felt that good. Holding Catherine then felt… I don't think there are words to describe how that embrace felt.

I felt… grounded I guess. It's weird really, when you think about it. Think about the whole picture, because I've been thinking about the whole picture when I was back home, and the conclusion is that the bound between Catherine and I is weird. I mean, wanted a normal relationship with Catherine, the kind I have with the boys and my family and friends. I knew therapy could help us and it did. Only it made things unexpectedly different. What I share with Catherine is so intense that the smallest things can have a deep impact. Everything is tenfold, which give me even more incentive to do things right and not to ruin it.

I care about her.

A lot.

I don't want to know why things are so intense though, they are and they work that way. I'm more than fine with just knowing that and doing everything I have to so it keeps on this path. Sometimes relationships are like magic shows. You know there's a trick, a rational explanation to everything; personally I like keeping the mystery; I like being in awe and wonder at how things works and not dwell on why they do, that kind of kill the thrill of it all for me.

So in the end I don't really care why I came to Catherine as soon as I got back to Vegas, I'm just glad I did because it was the best thing for me, and her as well apparently.

I inhale deeply scent of Catherine that is lingering on my, now wrinkled, clothes and let it fill my nostrils. I've slept properly for the first time since our last session with Adam. I didn't sleep long, but it was good the time it lasted. I found myself holding Catherine to sleep, it was oddly peaceful and soothing, even her light snoring didn't affect that.

I take the last drag out of my cigarette and crush is against the stair I'm sitting on, put it on the outside garbage before standing up and going back inside. I miss colliding with Cath by an inch as she barges out from the bathroom.

"Hey, sorry," I chuckle. She looks at me surprised and…hurt?

She averts her eyes and starts to fidget. "Hey," she says with a weak voice.

"Cath, you're alright?"

"Yeah," she mumbles quickly before trying to move past me, I refuse to let her go though. "Could you…please…"

"Look at me," I simply ask.

"I need to…" she tries again but trails off.

"Can you please look at me?" I ask again. There's something wrong but I'm a bit at lost.

She glances briefly at me and I can see that she has been crying, but I'm not sure why though.

_You people think you can come and go as you see fit without caring about the consequences of your actions. _

_I dare you to leave without giving my mom a proper goodbye because that's the very least she deserves…_

For some reason Lindsey's words come back in my mind and I slowly realize what she meant. Cath and I just shared something special and it didn't occurred to me that waking up alone with me nowhere in sight would affect her. And it's not like it was something she couldn't expect from me, after all if it hadn't been for Lindsey the other time I would have left with nothing but a lame note.

Lindsey taught me something that day and I intend to stick to it. I am a bit inept when it comes to human interaction – I mean, come on, a teenager schooled me on the basics so that should say much about the extent of my lack of social skills.

No, that's not true I'm selling myself short, I have social skills, only I'm not good when it comes to have people close. When it's time to get personal, I have no trouble being close to people, but I have a hard time letting people close to me. With the boys, it was okay, they've always acted around me like my brothers so I guess I was already familiar with that kind of relation.

Now when relationships go out of the known territory, then I freak out and as a result I instinctively do things that make any building of trust almost impossible, basically. And in that case either the people around me, stick around or just give up, and personally I've never been too demanding. I've learned fairly early to only count on myself, I'm more than grateful for those who stuck around – even though intrigued as to why, I do all I can to show them gratitude and I am ready to spare a limb for them should they ever need it; for those who didn't stick around, well, I don't blame them, I mean there's no fun in trying to be there for someone and only be kicked in the teeth every time.

Therapy with Catherine made me understand a few things. I understood that sometimes letting my guard down wasn't a bad thing and that relationships ask for balance; and balance calls efforts and compromises.

Which leads me back to Catherine right now, who has been crying, and from the look on her face or the way she appears so eager to run away from me, I conclude that I'm guilty for her state.

I wrap my arms around Catherine as she tries to move pass me again. She struggles a bit in the embrace but I don't let go.

_Mom can play tough but she gets hurts when people like you treat her like she was meaningless_…

"I promise, I'll never leave you without a proper goodbye if I can help it," I whisper to her.

It takes her a few seconds to register my words but eventually I feel her holding me tightly, tight enough to cut my air ways, I guess I said the right thing for once. Once we pull back she looks a bit embarrassed and swiftly passes her hands under her eyes, erasing any trace of tears.

"You...uh…I thought you had quit smocking," she states.

"Yeah," I wince. "I kind of took a break from that those past days."

"Bad Sara," she chastises me with a mock glare.

"I know, I know…" I roll my eyes. "I'm hungry, do you mind if I cook something?"

"Not at all, make yourself home."

There a thought bubbling in the back of my mind at her words but it's gone before I can even grasp it. I go to her kitchen and look around to see what I can do. I clean my hands in the sink and put out all I need on the counter top. Cath grabs a bottle of water, and sits on the other side of her island. She watches me silently and sometimes offers help but soon, I'm serving us both hot food. One thing I really appreciate now is the fact that we always share comfortable silence.

I sit in front of her and start to eat. I feel her fingertips brushing my wrist and I'm startled. I look at her hand and understand her gesture. My forearm is still bandaged, hiding the trace of my last meltdown. The cuts were deep and even though Rueben took good care of them I thought I'd keep the bandage to hide the newborn scars at least until they turn pale. I pushed my sleeve up earlier, I'm so used to do that when I cook that it's a reflex I do without even noticing.

I'm holding myself back from pulling my arm away from Cath's hand. Her fingertips are delicately tracing the outlines of the cotton strap band. I could react like I've always done, retreat in my shell, be angry about it. I could…

"I cut myself," I confess. Her head snaps in my direction I think she wasn't expecting anything from me. "Not to end it with my life or anything…it was just…" I trail off. Now that I've started I can't really stop I'm at the point where I either said too much or not enough. The thing is, though, that I don't know what to say or how to say it.

"You hurt yourself when you're upset," she provides after almost three minutes of silence.

"Sometimes I'm so angry I could destroy everything, when I'm like that I feel like I was like him and it upsets me even more… but there's nothing to ease this feeling. At least when I bleed I can rationally explain why I'm hurting, and there's nothing that can't be fixed with a first aid kit," I shrug.

We hold each other's gaze for a moment, then I look away. I can't believe I've just told her that. I push idly food in my plate.

"Do you feel better afterwards?" she asks with a soft voice, void of any disgust or pity feeling.

I look at her again and I can see that it's a simple matter of curiosity. "Most of the time yeah, I focus on the physical pain and block everything else…I've learned to channel the need to hurt myself, now I work out, run or make sports until I can't move anymore. Sometimes the urge is too great for me to contain so I hit walls, but I hadn't cut myself in a long while."

"What upset you that much for you to give in?"

"I went to visit my mom in prison," I tell her. I scrutinize her face and see that there's no change, she's still looking at me calmly with an expression of genuine care. "I was in California those last days…" she nods at the information.

"Our last session with Adam triggered so much negative emotions in me… I went there and I blamed her for everything; she just took it all with cool like nothing could reach her, then she shoved the truth right down my throat. That pissed me off, like never before," I smirk humourlessly. "I got back home and cut myself without thinking about it, just wanting whatever I was feeling to go away."

I'm not mad at my mother, I was then, but then I was too angry to be rational or even accept whatever she told me. Once I came back to my senses I realised she was right, just like Rueben.

"Lindsey's lucky, she has you, even though things aren't always perfect or bright, she has you and she can count on you. I miss my mom badly, and even if we've always kept in touch with her, and that I go visit her as much as I can…it hurts not to have her by my sides…" I feel a wave of pain and sadness washing over me.

I feel tears coming but I close my eyes and breathe deep to hold them back. I take my plate and turn around; I clean it and wash it at an extremely slow pace, then I wash my hands. When I turn toward Catherine again I'm surprised to find her close to me. I look at her before averting my eyes, finding my feet surprisingly interesting.

I see her arms snaking themselves around my waist, then I feel the rest of Catherine's body moulding itself against mine and I immediately close my eyes at the contact. My arms automatically come to rest around her back.

It's funny, I start to feel like I've missed a whole lot on human affection, gestures such as hugs. I've never been one to find comfort or offer comfort with physical gesture. Being physical with someone else has always been weird and awkward for me, once I give my trust I am a bit 'tactile' but otherwise not really. I'm the polar opposite of Catherine on that level, she's more open to physical contact. There are people like that, just not me.

However, I've been in her arms twice in less than 48h and I must say it feels oddly good; it gives me a completely different vision of thing, I can fathom the need one can have for simple gesture such as a pat on the back or a hug. It's really surreal how a simple hug can make me feel so secured and safe and calm and appreciated.

Of course my rational mind is telling me that a hug can't solve problems, and it's true, but it's a nice way to start solving the said problems. I mean when you're in someone else's arms, for a moment of pure unadulterated bliss, the world seems perfect; and what's better than to have some peace of mind before forcing ourselves to face the cruel world again?

Evidently since I'm a newbie in that department I could be wrong, I mean for all I know it could also only be Catherine's hugs that have this effect. Still, who would have thought that something as simple as a hug could say more than words?

I hold her tighter and inhale her scent deeply, not ready to face the world again. She puts a hand in the back of my neck caresses it with her fingers in a slow soothing motion. She doesn't need to say it but now I feel it, she's here for me, like she said she was. I feel like I could tell her everything and she would still stay, it's a good feeling.

We pull back eventually and look at each other for a while, sharing something I couldn't describe but something special that ultimately is just ours.

"I missed you," she confesses, she doesn't give me time to process her words though and just steps away from me.

I grab her left hand before she gets out of reach. I don't know what motivates my gesture but whatever it is, it's bigger than my conscious mind. She's looking at me uncertain and as surprised as I am. My body closes the distance and the next thing I'm aware of is the feeling of her lips under mines, they are soft and warm and it unleashes an indescribable feeling inside.

I let go of her hand so I can rest my hand on her hip while my other hand just cups her cheek; her hand takes back her position in the back of my neck and she's using the other to grip my shoulder.

The kiss is slow but it doesn't stop desire to start burning me from inside, I want more, much more. My hand has barely touched the skin under her shirt that her phone rings, breaking whatever spells we were caught into. We part, glancing briefly at each other and then she picks up the phone.

"Willows' residence," she answers in one breath. "Hey," she smiles. "Yeah…no I don't think so…are you okay?... No at all…I'm coming over… yeah…give me some time to get ready but I'll be there soon…I will, love you too," she says before hanging up.

She looks at me again with an apologetic expression. "I'm sorry, but I have to go to my sister as soon as possible."

"Sure, no problem," I tell her softly.

"Do you want to grab a quick shower or…"

"No, don't worry, I'll get one once I'm home. I'm going to let you get ready," I state before passing by her and gathering my belongings. Once I'm all set, she walks me to her door.

"Will I see you at work?"

"Hum…not for another week, there are things I need to take care of."

"Oh, alright," she nods.

"Thank you, for… everything."

"Sure thing."

I lean in and butterfly kiss her on the cheek, then I pull back and open the door.

"Sara…" she calls me back, I turn around and look at her expectantly. "I don't… I don't want to sound like a broken record but…I'm here for you."

I just smile with gratitude then I leave her house. I don't really have time to dwell on what we shared, or on the taste of her lips persisting on mine, by the time I arrive home – just a few minutes after, my twin brother Sydney calls me and talking to him makes me forget everything else.

xxxxx

I knock on the door in front of me and wait for it to be opened.

"Sara, paint me surprise," Adam greets me with a subtle grin.

"I hope it's not a bad time."

"Not at all, my office is always open," he states before he opens the door wider but it don't step in yet. He doesn't question my choice and leans against the door frame with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Had a little sun bath?" he jokes soberly.

"I've just gotten back from California," he nods at the information. "I uh…" I throw my thumb over my shoulder "The reason I'm here is because I brought you something actually."

He raises his eyebrows in surprise and is about to ask something when I raise my hand. My brother Sydney who was leaning against his van, walks around it, opens his trunk and pulls a heavily charged trolley out of it. He wheels everything to us, and Adam, though stunned, moves aside to let him unload his charge inside his office.

Sydney makes two travels back and forth and unloads different heavy boxes. Once he's done I introduce him to Adam who still seems out of it.

"Adam, this is my twin brother Sydney, Syd this is Adam."

"Nice meeting you sir," Sydney says shaking Adam's hand. "I hope you'll like it, it's one of the finest."

"Nice to meet you too Sydney, what exactly 'it' is?"

"Book shelf sir, with the compliment of the Sidles' carpenter's workshop," Sydney winks at him before addressing me. "You're all good?"

"Yeah, don't worry."

"Alright, in that case I'm on my way. Take care of yourself," he smiles at me then we hug each other. "I love you Buzz," he whispers in my ear.

"I love you too," I echo, he kisses my cheek and then gets out with his trolley. "Drive safely."

Adam finally overcomes his brain fart. "Sara, I cannot accept this. I… this is not ethical…please call your brother back, I can't…"

"I came here as a person to another to fix what I have broken, this is not a shrink/patient thing, then if you still refuse I might have to punch you until you accept," I tell him seriously.

He gauges my seriousness for a moment and snorts. "Well… on this really convincing argument I have no choices but to cave in."

"Wise choice," I smile to him before picking up my tool box and coming in.

We start to move his books and documents that he had put on the ground, I can only supposed that he got rid of the old book shelf. We start to work in silence, Adam actually knows his way around manual work so it's really nice to work with him to put the book shelf in form.

If I hadn't fallen in love with science or been to one of Grissom's conferences, I think I would have followed Sydney's footsteps, and worked with him at the shop. There's nothing more soothing – for me – than working on the wood and building furniture.

"I'm looking for validation in the wrong places…" I say as I'm screwing one of the shelf on its slot.

"Who are you quoting?" Adam asks. "That sounds like something people like me would say," he adds.

"Number five," I smirk. "Oh no wait, that was number six," I correct myself. "Can you adjust it on the left?"

"Yours or mine?"

"Oh… yeah, your right then," he chuckles softly and does what I ask.

"You agree?" he doesn't hesitates and walk through the proverbial door I have opened to him.

"I'm not good with lines. I'm not good at tracing them or not stepping on the ones already there. And lines are important because they can define a relationship," I think out loud. "Hold it," I instruct him as we take another heavy shelf and put it in place. "I always make the wrong decisions and damage my relationships or make things awkward or difficult."

"Lines…" he repeats. "What do you mean by 'lines'?"

"Boundaries, feelings or affection I guess…" I shrug. "Grissom…he is… I've always wanted to have his attention; I wanted him to be proud of me…" I trail off. "And feeling appreciated for my knowledge or what I do… it's like a drug really…the feeling is priceless… and for me that was warm and… that was love…"

"Push," Adam asks and I do so. "Love is a good feeling," he states with heavy breath from the effort.

"I suppose it is…"

"You suppose?"

"Yeah because what number six made me understand is that I'm just looking for that feeling of appreciation and that I'm not giving it the right tag. It's hard to define what you don't know, so I call it love, but that's because I don't know such a thing outside my family boundary. And as if it wasn't complicated enough, love comes in countless degrees and shapes… hold it."

Adam and I take another shelf from a box. "Wait… I think we got it upside down," Adam warns me. We arrange the shelf in its right position and then start to fix it.

"As it turned out it is love, but in a fatherly way, and beyond that, it's deep friendship, I know he'll always be there for me. But I must say that the lines are always a mystery to me, which is one of the major reasons why I'm socially challenged," I keep on with my reflection.

I've never spoken to Adam that long and without any question asked before. We are both aware of that. But it's different, even though I know he takes whatever I'm telling him as if we were in session, right now it doesn't feel like therapy more like me confiding to a 'friend'. It's a silly illusion, I know it, so does he, but the point is that I'm actually talking.

"Alright, I think we're done," Adam states while giving the dowel he was tightening a last wrist turn. We both grab the bookshelf and push it up to a standing position, with its back against the wall with a synchronized motion. We spend the next few minutes adjusting the bookshelf next to the other furniture.

Once we're done we both take a step back and look at it.

"This is magnificent, the finishing, the refined carving… Your brother did that?" Adam speaks with genuine awe.

"Yeah, I draw the pattern and help at the cutting but he's the real magician, he can make wonders with his hands," I smile proudly.

"We're not talking about Grissom, are we?" he suddenly says. I take a look at him and he's covered with a thin sheen of sweat and his cheeks are a little bit red.

"You know, I could think you're dumber than you appear to be and let you drop down a serious notch in my esteem – which would be dramatic considering your original position. Truth is that the 'naïve' attitude you adopt tends to annoy me even though I know it's only supposed to encourage me to speak. So please just for the sake of not passing yourself for a complete moron and avoid me hitting you in the back of your head, stop that," I tell him with a jaded tone. He just smirks in return. "We both perfectly know you've been aware of my point all along."

"Fair enough," he nods. "Do you want anything to drink?"

"Sparkling water, please."

He goes to the fridge in the room, pulls out two bottles of water, hands one to me, opens the other and takes a long gulp out of it.

"Lines…" he starts still looking at the bookshelf. "The lines in society are laws; the ones of the professional world are rules. But what are the lines in human relationships? Who draw them? How do they work?" he asks rhetorically.

"I'm a shrink and you're my patient, and I defined the rules of our interaction during our first session. However this is still a human relationship so by definition the lines can always be redefined. Like today, I accepted this bookshelf even though common sense would want me to refuse. By offering me this bookshelf as a replacement of the one you destroyed, you changed one line between us, and I accepted this change. But even though I've let you draw that new line, we still both know where the boundaries of our relationship are."

"I'm not sure how that clarification helps me," I frown.

"Damages only occurred when the lines aren't clear. You have to define the lines before making decisions, and the lines have to be known accurately from both parties. Take a step back and consider the whole picture, have a global vision, then draw the lines, that's still the best way to proceed."

There's a long silence, while his work are sinking into my brain, my mind will need more time to actually process them.

"So you like the bookshelf," I state more than ask before drinking from my bottle.

"Yes, very much so. And as a bonus I know that if not for me, out of respect for you and your brother's work you won't attack this one."

We both laugh softly.

"Just so we're clear on this point, you really shouldn't have done anything and if it wasn't for the threat of being physically violent with me I would have refused."

I grin. "I know."

"Mind you, if I get something that beautiful every time, please feel free to use my furniture as punching bags."

"Right," I roll my eyes with a smirk. I'll deny it at gunpoint but I think I actually appreciate Adam, on a human level. "We should put your books back in place."

"If you don't mind I'd like to make that on my own later. I have first to choose how I want to order them, by theme; in alphabetical order; by book house; by edition; by printing dates; by size; by color; randomly or by any logical association my brain can come up with."

I frown with a whistle. "Tough choice."

"Yeah, I have long hours of reflection coming."

"I'm going to leave you to it then," I nod.

"I'm not chasing you, Sara," he states seriously.

"I know, I'm the one leaving."

He agrees with his head before staring at his new bookshelf, as for myself, I put back my tools in their attributed place in my tool box silently.

I'm almost at the door when his voice resounds again. "The lines you draw are not permanent, they can always be redefined."

After a few more seconds he looks at me again. "Thanks again for the bookshelf," he grins.

"Sure thing," I reply before leaving his office.

xxxxx

I'm waiting with excitation in the arrivals section of the airport. I might sound weird but I like watching people at the airport especially on the arrival section. There's just so much happiness, warm embraces of lovers, friends, family, just people overcome with pure bliss – if only for a few minutes – while welcoming the people they care about and from whom they've been apart for a more or less long period of time.

I'm all excited because I'm one of those happy people today. I received an anonymous text message with flight information, and nothing more. It's a game we have, my siblings and me. That way I can prepare to receive the visitor but the surprise is full until the last moment.

My heart just explodes at the sight of the young blonde woman with sparkling green eyes and a 1000 watts smile who is walking toward me with hurried steps. She drops her bags at her feet and engulfs herself in my open arms. I sigh in contentment when I secure her in a warm and loving embrace.

"Gee, it feels so good," I say in her hair. "It's been too long."

"I know almost two years."

I pull away a bit and frame her face. "Gosh, look at you, you're all grown up now babycake," I laugh before hugging her again. "I've missed you so much."

"Me too."

Finally my baby sister is back from Europe where she's been studying for the past two years. Of course we talked on the phone and write to each other regularly, but it's not the same than to have her here, next to me.

"Alright, oxygen is becoming an issue," she jokes when I refuse to let her go. I kiss her forehead and break our embrace but keep an arm around her shoulders.

"Let's get your suitcase and then you're going to tell me everything in details," I declare with a wide smile. "It's really good to see you," I kiss her forehead once more.

xxxxx

"Are you taking me somewhere fancy?" Hazel asks me from my bedroom.

"Nah, dress up comfortably," I reply. I have planned for us to play pool, then we'll go around the casinos and see a show and just enjoy a typical Vegas night.

"Alright, I'm taking a shower and I should be ready in about ten minutes."

I'm moving around in my apartment along with music I've put on. Hazel arrived two days ago and I must say I haven't stopped smiling ever since. Funny how sometimes the simplest things can change a life.

There's knock on the door which surprises me because I'm not expecting anyone. My smile returns when I see Catherine through my peephole. I've left her house four days ago and we haven't seen each other since, even though I did call to know how she was doing.

"Hey," I greet her warmly, worry replaces my good mood as I take time to scrutinize her. "Cath, what's wrong?" I gently ask as I invite her in.

She looks around, visibly upset. "How can they be like that?... how…" she speaks but doesn't really address to me.

"Like what…"

"Cold…they were just…kids… and they…" she growls and tears of frustration start to run down her cheeks. I close the distance between us, but I'm a bit at loss as to what I should do.

She doesn't need to give details, there cases like this, case that still surprises us. After a while we come to think that 'things can't get worse', that somehow we've reached the bottom, that we've seen it all; then there will be one case which would take it all to another level. Sometimes, I think that our job is all about 'shielding' the rest of the world from humans' cruelty, or at least to take the blunt of it all, so even though people know it's not a perfect world, they can still pretend it is. After one year of witnessing what human beings can do, trust me, even the best drug won't help you pretend the world is a pretty place. Lucky us we are still able to find things that are worth protecting and preserving from all that, otherwise we'd go crazy.

I hesitantly wrap my arms around Catherine, not that I don't want to hug her, but as I've said before physical contact is not my MO for comfort, and that even after having shared intimacy with Cath.

She holds be back tightly, she tries to control her tears but failed, and cries silently on my shoulder. There's nothing to say that could actually make her feel better.

She pulls back and presses her lips against mine, the salt of her tears is tingling the tip of my tongue. I break the kiss, it doesn't feel right.

"Cath…" I call her softly but she doesn't give me the chance to say anything else because her lips are on mine again.

"Make me feel…please…I need…" she's kissing me passionately and forcefully, I try as much as I can to push her away, but she's having none of it. Right now it's like I was trying to turn off a wild fire with a small glass of water.

And of course my body chooses this exact moment to betray me, letting itself be overwhelmed by Catherine's lips, hands, body…

We're walking backward in my apartment, kissing; her hands start to wander under my top.

Alarms bell are ringing full blast in my head. We shouldn't, this is wrong, it feels wrong… I'm taking advantage of her. It's not the first time and…

I bluntly break the kiss and pull my head away so my lips are out of Catherine's reach.

"We can't…this is a really inappropriate time…" I mumble.

"Please…" she just says before catching my lips again.

"Cath, we can't…I can't, not now there's…" I try to speak in between kisses. "Cath…I'm not alone…we…I'm not…" there are so many reasons why this is a bad idea, and if my body wants to oblige, one reason enough not to carry this on would be…

"Hey bee I'm read…oops, bad timing…"

Hazel.

The third voice definitely gets both our attention. Great, I've been caught by my baby sister.

"Shit," I curse under my breath before turning to my little sister. I step away from Catherine and walk to Hazel. "Babycake, we need to talk, this is…we really need to talk…" I struggle. "And…" something catches me eyes. "You are not wearing that shirt of mine it's off limits," I get sidetrack but shake my head in focus. "Anyway, babycake, this is a… I want you to meet…" I throw my hand behind me in direction of Catherine.

"She bailed," Hazel says softly.

"What?" I frown not making any connexion.

The next sound I hear is my door being slammed shut, when I turn around Catherine is gone. "She bailed," Hazel repeats what is now obvious, while I'm staring at the empty space dumbfounded, to say the least. An unexpected and painful slap lands behind my head. I look at my sister puzzled. "Bee, that's your cue," when I still don't move she spells things out. "You may want to run after her before she goes too far."

My brain finally joins the party and I'm running to the door within the second, I get out a first time but then make my way back inside.

"I'll be fine, come on," Hazel simply says with a roll of her eyes.

"Just don't burn anything," I ask her, referring to an incident which occurred in the past.

"Fuck off," she laughs.

I dash in my corridor and take two stairs at a time, at this speed if I miss one I'll break my neck, and only that if I'm lucky.

I manage to catch up with Cath just as she exits my elevator, I block her way. "Hey, wait," I pant. "I'm sorry about that," I chuckle.

"I don't want to hear about it…" she dismisses me, I frown at her sharp tone

"Look, this isn't that bad, I need to talk to her but she'll understand, she'll give us privacy so we can talk… you don't have to go," I tell her gently. She ignores my words and just passes me by exiting the building.

"Cath, hey, wait, I know it's a bit embarrassing but it's not a big deal…"

She turns abruptly toward me. "Are you serious?" she asks, her eyes flaring with anger. "I'm mortified right now, and the only thing I want is to go home."

"Cath, please don't go, come back in, we can talk. I'll ask Hazy to leave if it makes more comfortable…" I put myself between her and her car.

"Get out of my way and let me go," she seethes.

"What's wrong?"

"Just keep mocking me, that's great…" she says offhandedly. "Where are my fucking car keys?" she groans. She buries her face in her hands. "I'm beyond this… it's not the first time…why am I surprised…let's calm down…" she mutters, not making any sense to me at the moment. She looks in her bag again, but finds her keys in her left pocket, all the time simply ignoring me.

"Can you explain me what's going on? Frankly I'm lost right now, I apologized; I don't know what more I can do. I mean, if anything I should be the one pissed off right now, because your behaviour was more than rude; bolting out without a word like your pants were on fire; and now being angry for no reasons."

"I refuse to lay it out for you, now I don't want to fight with you either, so please step aside," I stay still for a few more seconds, it's clear that I won't get any better explanations than this, yet I can't bring myself to let her access her vehicle.

Then something hits me, of course I've been tackling this backward. "Oh, wait… Hazel, the young woman in my apartment, she's my younger sister."

Catherine laughs bitterly. "Insult my intelligence why don't you," she groans. "Move aside."

"I'm serious, she is and I can…" I feel the back pocket of my pants to find my wallet but realize that I've left it in my apartment. "Crap… I can't prove it right now, but if you would come back up…"

"So she can go on with your lie?"

"I'm not…"

"Your sister? She's strawberry blond with green eyes, you think I'm stupid?"

"No, it's the truth…"

"Just stop!" she snaps. "Move!"

I do as told "You're upset so you don't want to hear anything, I get it," I declare calmly. "Let me know when you get rational again," I add. We know each other well enough now, and I know that when she's angry there's no use trying to talk to her. She closes her eyes and sighs but bites her tongue. She climbs into her car and less than twenty seconds later she's gone.

I walk back to my building and decide to run the stairs up so I can let some steam off. I really don't know what just happened. I mean sure, it was a bit embarrassing but nothing, absolutely nothing justifies her sudden change of attitude.

I walk back in my apartment and slam the door shut with much more force than necessary. I start to pace in my living room and when I can't take it anymore I grab my phone, I hold it but don't place a call, I need to have a coherent thought before leaving a message.

"Don't do it, put the phone down," Hazel's soothing voice makes me jump. I had completely forgotten her.

"Geez…" I let out with a sigh, she scared me.

"Bee, put the phone down. You're too upset and if you call you might say something you don't want," she elaborates. She's standing a few feet away from me.

"I'm mad at her, and…"

"Even more reasons not to call her, come on, put the phone down."

She's right, if I call Catherine I'll blow a fuse, and that's not what I want. No, what I want is to understand and if I did something wrong; I want her to let me know how to fix it. That's our new relationship, no argument when it can be avoided. I take a deep breath and put the phone back onto its cradle.

"Good girl," Hazel smiles.

I puff, "Please take a seat," I instruct her and she complies. "That was Catherine, by the way, a friend from work," I start. "Hazel…babycake, I…" I snort. "Well now I'm only stating the obvious, but I think you should know that though I don't subscribe myself to any label, I've dated both men and women; and I'm attracted to both. No, truth to be told, I just never question myself on the gender detail, I just go with what I feel," I confess. "I wish I could have told you instead of you walking in on me and someone."

She nods. I don't say anything else, waiting for her reaction, she pouts her lips a bit and raises her eyebrow under my gaze. I have a little head movement to give her incentive to express herself.

"You uh…" she chuckles. "You do realize that I've known it since I was 14, right?"

Now, I am befuddled.

"Apparently not," she adds and laughs softly. "Charleen Bakersmith," she simple states. When I still don't make sign that I understand she spells it out. "Come on, you were fighting for her attention just like the boys did; I'm sure they'd still be jealous today if they knew that it was you who had conquered her heart and gotten to kiss the young lady."

I snort and hang my head.

"Rueben and I never understood why you, Charlie, Howie, Russ and Syd, always kept that a secret, not that it was obviously."

"We didn't want to leave you out, it's just that you are the babies, and we just didn't want anything to disturb you and stuff."

"We were 14 and 17, please."

"I know, now it sounds stupid, but at the time it seemed right. I'm sorry, we were morons."

"That's okay, just so you know, you don't have sweat it, we all know. I got a question though, I'm almost 30, when did you plan on letting me in on it officially?"

"Tonight maybe or at least before you'd have gone back home, I figured we'd get to talk about our love lives or in my case lack thereof." I tell her honestly before sitting in the armchair in front of her.

"Good to know," she smiles. "So…you want to reassess your previous statement?" she's pursing her lips to contain her smile. "Catherine... your girlfriend?"

"She's not my girlfriend," I reply firmly. "We are just friends but yeah, we crossed that line before," I tell her. "It happened twice, first it was after a session we were both over emotional and needed a release, and then it was pure lust. But it always started with being emotionally unstable."

"You don't…fancy her?"

"It's not like that, we're in session together so it makes things… kind of out of control sometimes," I shrug.

"Session?"

"Yeah, we're having a therapy."

"She's not your girlfriend and you two are in therapy together… I'm missing a link," she narrows her eyes puzzled.

"We had relational issues at work, Grissom thought therapy would be the answer."

"That's one solution."

"And if I was against at first I must say it does help. But things are still rough hence some moments like this one."

"I have a theory," Hazel tilts her head.

"I'm all ears," I say dramatically, then I get up and go to the kitchen side and take a bottle of soda out of the fridge.

"Jealousy."

I nearly choke on the water when I chuckle. "Nah, there's nothing like that, she knows it."

"Okay, but she comes here and for some reason you getting on at it and she sees me…"

"Like I said embarrassing but no biggie."

"Does she know I'm your sister?"

"I just told her," I confirm.

"Hmm…" Hazel purses her lips as if she was holding herself from telling me something I should already know.

"What?" I ask expectantly.

"My jealousy theory still stands."

"I told her you were my sister, come on!"

"You do realize that you and I don't look alike, at all, right?"

"Thank you Captain Obvious."

She sighs before spelling it out for me "Alright, so you're getting on at it and she sees me, a younger version of herself with green eyes. That's a bad image on the outside, Bee. And for you to tell her that I'm your sister at this moment sounds more like some crappy cop out than the actual truth."

Oh.

Now that's a twist.

Alright I admit that I didn't see the whole thing since I know Hazel is my sister, but now that she mention it I understand why Cath didn't see the comic of the situation through the embarrassing part of it. No wonder why she was upset, even though I don't owe her any thing because it's not like we were lovers or anything, I wouldn't treat her like that or my partner if I had one for that matter. The last conversation I had with Adam is starting to make sense to me.

It's all about lines… always is.

"To make it short, she sees me, probably thinks I'm your girlfriend and you using pet names just strengthens that wrong belief, yet you were just about ready to have a 'tension releasing' emotional roll in the hay; so when you think about it from her supposed point of view here, it makes an asshole out of you and a cheap slut out of her," she barely breathes in between sentences "Do you know that 'fuck buddy' and 'friend with benefit' are two polar opposite?" she asks out of the blue but doesn't give me the chance to answer. "Well they are, if you want a proof there's nothing easier. Think about it this way, the first word of both expressions says it all, it tells you exactly without any mistake possible what you will lose if things turn sour. So my point is, tread carefully bee, because the stakes are completely different. Tread carefully, that's my advice. "

I frown and try to catch up with her words. I love my sister, but sometimes when she speaks she goes too fast for the human ear – and to make it funnier she was quite a chatterbox when we were kids, then she was called 'Speedy Hazeles'; nowadays she only speaks too fast when she gets carried away. Lucky me, I'm used to translate her by now, she realises she just had a verbal flood so she gives me a moment to process everything.

I definitely need to think calmly, something I can't do right now, still too caught up with what happened and the new information I just got.

"So are we going out or what?" she closes the topic, once she knows I'm back on the same page as her.

"Don't think I forgot about my shirt, I'm serious it's off limits. I know you, you're going to pull a Houdini with it."

"A Houdini?" she laughs with her medium, crystalline voice.

"Yeah, a Houdini, you take my clothes and I never see them again."

"Oh come on," she gives me a puppy look.

"No way Hazel, I like that shirt," she puts more effort into her pout. "That shirt is named 'come back', I'm not joking," I cave in.

"Sure," she winks at me before grabbing her coat.

"Hazel, I'm serious," I repeat before we exit my apartment, I only get another laugh in response, I shake my head and roll my eyes as I close the door behind us.

* * *

**Thanks for reading**


	21. Chapter 21

**Hi everyone! First and foremost Happy new year 2010 and best wishes. :D**** Then thank you all very much for your reviews, you guys rock!**

**I'm sorry it took so long but I was unable to write for a long time and when I had a chance I had a good old writer block. But here's the chap…**

**Enjoy,**

**So ;)**

**Ps: I'd like to thanks **Max, Freddie, Immi** and **Scuby**, for putting up with me for yet another year and giving me their opinions and ideas when I struggle like do. You're the best ;)**

* * *

**Chapter 21**

_Catherine's POV_

"Ms. Willows?" the mention of my name brings my attention to focus. The Principal of Lindsey's High school, Mr. Finley is looking at me expectantly.

I hate being here, it reminds me of my own high school days. I feel like I'm the one in trouble, the principal's office is just as unpleasant as it was back then, at the only exception that no matter what happen I won't be getting out of here with detention or any kind of punishment.

"Yes," I blink. "I'm…" I clear my throat. "I'm sorry."

"I do not feel that you are taking interest in this meeting, no offence," he says with a haughty tone. I've never been a big fan of him. On the very few occasions I had to talk to him he always despised me, even though I don't remember being ever disrespectful or giving him such a ground to have that kind of behaviour with me.

"I am taking interest in this meeting," I reply firmly not taking his insinuation keenly "I'm just no sure to understand the actual problem. From what I read and what you told me, I don't think my daughter is at fault in any way."

"She wrote an article in the school paper that was belligerent and disrupted her literature class several times, starting a little 'riot'."

"I do not approve of her disrupting her class, but all she did was to express herself."

"She contradicted her teacher, not only that, she repeatedly said he was wrong and didn't understand half of the books they read! And this article of hers… she basically call her literature teacher incompetent, this is inadmissible, do you realize that because of her the other kids make it impossible for the teacher to do his work now? She created a situation that is damaging for everyone in this school."

"I'm sorry, but I believed it's a good thing that she expressed a constructive opinion."

"Students are to listen to their teacher not fight with them, how do you expect them to learn otherwise?"

"Isn't the purpose of school to forge young minds to learn to be individuals and able to form thoughts of their own, reflect on the knowledge they receive; don't you think that forcing them to agree with their teachers defeat that whole purpose? I mean this is a school, not a sheep factory, right?" I joke.

"Her attitude was inappropriate and I wish you'd grasp the gravity of the situation," he seems upset that I actually back my daughter up.

I'm not supporting Lindsey just because she's my daughter. If she does something wrong I'll be the first to reprimand her. Now, I can't blame my kid for thinking for herself and expressing a very methodically argued point of view.

"You make it sound like someone was dead, it's not the case," I state.

"Ms. Willows…"

"Listen, I will talk to her about not disrupting her class again and be more diplomat when it comes to express herself if that can quell your worry."

"I'll appreciate it. Now you'll understand that the consequence of her action is a week exclusion from school."

"I personally find that sanction disproportional but, you're better judge of what's appropriate," I let out instead of imploding onto his face. "Is there anything else?" I ask

"We are done, Ms Willows."

I stand up and Mr. Finley does the same. He extends his hand and I shake it politely before turning around to exit the room.

"Maybe if you spent more time with your daughter and less time going out and thinking about your social agenda, you'd find time to teach some discipline to your daughter," he adds with a sneer.

He shouldn't have.

I stop in mid stride and turn around, and will myself not to bite his head off, but when I see the proud smile on his face I want to punch him. I'm wondering if Ecklie has a brother he never mentioned, cause I think I just met him. I bite my lips and force myself to keep my temper in check.

"May it be said that not only that was highly inappropriate but this is the first and last time you ever speak to me like that. I am not your friend or someone you can stomp on just for a little ego trip. I've just pull out two shifts trying to find out who raped and killed a 17 years old before dumping her body like trash; I had to faced two families and tell them that their loved ones are now deceased after a stupid bar fight; and I had to hold a seven years old boy's hand while he testified of how he was repeatedly abused by his relatives; so right now I don't have it in me to support any sexist and screwed up comment from a little man who think that having an individual opinion is a crime!"

I don't think he had expected me to come back, even less being so furious, but he has the decency to look sorry as the colors drain from his face.

"My job and everybody else's is as much important as yours. Your position doesn't give you the right to belittle, judge or make assumption about anybody. This is not a threat but a sound advice, do not speak to me like that again, ever," I tell him firmly.

He clears his throat. "I was out of line…I'm sorry."

I just tighten my jaw not to say anything more and exit his office, being careful not to slam his door too hard. I'm fuming right now and it's a good thing I let my service weapon in my locker before coming because this is one of those time I'd gladly shoot somebody's ass.

Lindsey is waiting for me in the hall, looking apprehensive.

"Do you have all your belongings?" I ask her in a tone that let her know that now isn't a good time to be argumentative or give me attitude, so she just nods. "Let's go home then."

We cross the corridors of her school silently, I'm walking fast because I'm boiling, that guy just put me in a very bad mood. I just can't believe his nerve! I open the car from the distance when we reach the parking lot and Lindsey climbs in without a word and a few seconds later I'm driving us both home.

"You're mad," Lindsey states more than she asks when we stop at a traffic light.

"Yes I am, I'm mad at that pompous prick who currently is your principal," I let out with a growl, then my brain catches up with my mouth and I close my eyes with a sigh. "Please pretend I didn't say the word 'prick' even though that's exactly what I think," I plead her. "And please do not use it."

She chuckles but I give her a serious look and she stops immediately, and doesn't say anything else for the rest of the drive. We enter home and she goes to her room while I go to the kitchen, pour myself some water and lean against the countertop, rubbing my forehead with a hand.

"Are you mad at me?" Lindsey's voice

I sigh deeply. "You've been expelled for the next week, I can't exactly say that I'm overjoyed at this moment," I tell her honestly. "I mean, you are intelligent and smart, that essay and article you wrote prove that much. There are so many ways to protest and create something powerful and positive at the same time. You have to be more organized and less belligerent, sometimes being blunt is the way to go, but other time you have to be more diplomatic in order to change the things. You know an organised 'revolution' can have as much impact as a violent one."

She's looking at me with her eyes as wide as saucer plates. "So…you're not mad at me because of what I did but because I got punished for it?" she asks cautiously.

"Hell yeah!" I reply. "And because that pompous… because your principal was unfair with his sentence," I manage not to slip again with my tongue. "Sweetie I'll never be mad at you for standing up for your opinion and fighting for it, I can never be mad at you for doing something right."

"Thanks…for supporting me," she smiles.

"I know, you may think that I don't care about things like that but I do. And you can always come to me at anytime, I'd be more than happy to help or give you advice or just listen."

"Cool."

"You never, ever bother me, you know that, right?"

"Yeah, I'm your priority, I know," she rolls her eyes.

"It's true Linds. I'm proud of you and I feel lucky to have you.'

She approaches me silently and hugs me tightly. "I love you, mom."

Warmth spreads inside me, no words can express that particular feeling of love I feel right now. I know Linds is growing up and she tends to be less demonstrative of her love and be more guarded from me even though we have an open relationship. It's normal, she's building her little secret garden and all, we all have one; if it's hard for me to let go sometimes, I understand. In return, every little display and touch of love and affection becomes even more precious.

"I love you too, baby," I kiss her head. "Now, do me a favour, say I went ballistic about you being expelled for a week. That will keep your principal off my back, because I don't think that congratulate you was what he had in mind when he told me I had to do something. I really don't want to go back into that…man's office or I might be violent with him," I pout.

Lindsey's laugh reverberates itself against my chest. "Deal."

"Are you hungry?" I ask her as I pull away.

"Nope."

"Alright, do you mind if I take a nap? I'm exhausted."

"Do you mind if I take it with you?" she replies and I can only smile at that. I put an arm around her shoulders and guide us to my bed.

"Sweetie, I'll never do," I beam.

xxxxx

I hear a car being parked in the driveway, so I get up from the couch where I was reading and go put my used mug in the kitchen sink, before going to the door. I open it and my smile fades away as I don't see Warrick exiting the car but Sara.

We haven't had a chance to see each other since I left her apartment – well chance has nothing to with it, really, it was more about me being good at avoidance, but who cares? And then I decided to make the best of Lindsey's suspension, so I took days off to spend them with her, all in all Sara and I haven't spoken to one another in four days.

I know avoiding the matter is childish, but facing it isn't exactly appealing. I don't think I'm ready to handle the situation. I'm hurt, if I'm honest, more hurt than angry, and I only have myself to blame.

I step on my front porch and close the door softly behind me; the fact that I have no intention to invite her in is my silence statement of how things are as far as I'm concerned. She comes closer and sits down on my front steps. I stay up and lean against one of the wooden beams of the porch, not too far from Sara.

She's twisting her hands nervously, looking at them with great interest. "Warrick said he was meeting you…" she starts after a long silence. "It took a lot of effort but I convinced him not to tell you that I was coming instead."

I could be mad at Warrick for not giving me the heads up but knowing Sara, she'd have found another way if that one had failed.

"I know you're busy being mad at me, so I figured that it was up to me to re-establish the contact between us."

She turns to me for the first time, when she understands that I have no intention to speak, she focuses on her hands again.

"I've waited for a sign from you that you were ready for us to talk, but at this rate the next time we'd have been talking to one another would have been in session, provided you'd have come to it," she rambles. "Anyway, here I am…"

I sigh loudly to let her know that my patience is running off.

"It's funny, because it's only now that I realise how little we talked before. When I think about it, it seems so absurd, I mean I know I've told bit and pieces of information about myself…but apparently never to you. I know I can be guarded, but I didn't notice how guarded I was from you during those past six years."

I'm about to tell her that I don't see the point she's trying to make.

"The other day…" she trails off. "You know, I'm not that socially inept… a part of me was aware of what you were feeling and thinking, but that part was smothered by the one that was preoccupied about what my sister was thinking and feeling after catching me with someone…a woman at that…" she says looking at the distance.

It takes some time for her words to actually register in my brain.

"Your sister…" I repeat softly, I'm still not anymore convinced than when she told me this on that fateful day.

"Yeah, my sister," she reaffirms with sigh.

"The blonde, young woman…"

"In my apartment that day was my little sister, Hazel," she persists.

I feel my legs being very weak all the sudden, so I seat on the stairs as well. "This is not a joke, is it?"

"I tried to tell you," she protests a bit.

Oh yeah, now it's my fault.

"I…" she sighs. She turns her head to look at me, she locks her gaze with mine. "I know in the past things were rough but they have been changing now and I…I care about you Catherine, and… I'd never do anything to hurt you…maybe I just wanted you to trust me, to trust that I would never hurt you…"

I avert my eyes feeling suddenly very vulnerable.

"You know…I came here thinking, that I didn't have to apologize, but I do. I'm sorry, I didn't handle the situation well."

I nod, glancing at her quickly, before looking away. I don't know how I feel right now, I'm lost and confused.

I hear her sighs. "This… it makes me think and…I think it's better if we stop…"

My head snaps in her direction in the second, I wait for her to elaborate with a thundering heart.

"This fuck buddy thing we have going on…"

"Fuck buddy…" I repeat in a whisper. What is this acute stinging sensation burning a hole in my heart?

"Yeah… this way we have to seek physical release with one another when we are emotionally distressed…"

"Fuck buddy," I mouth again, like my brain had just bugged and refused to process any more information.

"I want…I want us to be friends Cath… not friends who occasionally fuck one another…" she trails off and looks away. "And I don't think we can build that friendship properly if we keep crossing that line."

I hear what she's saying and I agree, I just don't get why it hurts so much.

Right… who am I kidding?

It hurts because for a split moment there, it felt like much more than 'fuck buddies', it felt real, it _was_ real. It's because it was so real and intense that it hurts so much right now.

I look at her, and from her apprehensive expression I conclude that she's expecting something from me, a reaction of some kind.

I just nod. She managed to make a deep cut into my heart with barely anything, so I guess she has a point. At least if we stay in the 'friendly correct' zone, I won't be fooled into believing that there was, is, something between us.

I wonder though, does it mean that for her, whatever happens when she came back from California was the same than when I came to her after being held at gunpoint? I mean, I don't think I made up anything, I don't think I imagine her feeling this… connection between us.

I found myself trying to hold back tears, so I avert her eyes. "Guess, I should have trusted you," I mumble. Maybe then things wouldn't have changed that way, I add to myself.

"You want to know what's ironic about all this? I had planned for you to be the first to officially meet another Sidle. Of course it would have been around a lunch or a dinner. So much for my plan…" she snorts lightly.

For the first time since I don't know when, we share an awkward silence. We're looking at each other, she seems so far to me at this very moment. Right now, it feels like something was broken between us. We're still at this stage of the relationship where everything is fragile and uncertain so every decision we make can be a set back. We are not a solid 'us', so to speak, maybe one day we will, if we manage to go pass this little episode.

"You…want to come in?" I finally ask without great enthusiasm.

"Thanks…but I promised Hazel I'd take her out today," she replies, probably sensing that even though the air has now been cleared up, a little distance will be appreciated.

"Alright," I nod.

"We're… we're okay, right?" she asks shyly before looking at me with pleading eyes.

"Sure," I manage a small grin.

"Okay, then, I better get going", she says after a few seconds.

She stands up and I mimic her, crossing my arms over my chest. She faces me for a moment and then eventually starts to walk away.

"Do you still want it?" I ask suddenly non sequitur.

It's true what they say about getting back on your horse after a fall, the longer your wait, the longer you let fear grow, up to the point where you're too scared to ever try to ride again. I know I'll need time to wrap my mind around everything before putting it to rest, but that's something I have to do on my own. Now, I know that Sara and I just took a step back, that doesn't mean we have to stop moving forward.

"Want what?"

"Want me to meet your sister," I elaborate.

Sara's face lights up a bit and a grin starts to tug at the corner of her lips. "Of course. What about lunch at my place tomorrow?" she immediately proposes as though she was afraid I'd change my mind.

"Is it okay if I bring Lindsey along?"

"Sure, the more the merrier," her voice holds the warm tone of cheerfulness. "I'll call you later to give you details."

I simply nod in response, we keep staring at each other, then she finally starts to close the distance to the driver's door, so I retreat to my house.

"Cath…" her voice stops me just as I'm about to cross my threshold. I look at her expectantly and for the first time she looks like a child, fragile and uncertain, somewhere her expression breaks my heart. "We _are_ okay…right?" she repeats her previous question.

It's as if the fate of the world was held in her question and in my answer. It is when you think about it, the fate of the world that we've spent the last nine months to create is now dangling from my hands, I'm the one to decide if I drop it for good or keep holding it.

I sigh and grin genuinely. "Yes, we are."

A nervous smile is now on her lips and eventually she breaks the eye contact and climbs into her car. I enter my house again and lean against the close door before sighing heavily.

That's what happens when you break your own golden rules. You get burnt badly. There are reasons for rules to exist, that'll teach me right… yet again.

One of my cardinal rules is: never let your guard down.

I really stuck to that one good this time… obviously.

I let my guard down and what happened? I took a mean punch, straight in the stomach, it cut my air supplies and knocked me out good. Serves me well, I knew better. Go with your feelings is one thing, but you got to use your head in every case, cause self preservation is an intellectual exercise, and the heart needs to be preserved…

I bang my head softly against the door and go to the kitchen, I sit down on one of the chairs, put my elbows on the table and bury my head in my hands.

Fuck buddies… of course, what did I think? It's just like she said, it was always an enjoyable solution to emotional distress…

_Yeah but…_

No, let's not go there. Fuck buddies was all that it was about, period. Let's not add insult to the injury.

I groan and sigh deeply, now it's time to pull myself together.

xxxxx

"Linds, can I come in?" I ask to my daughter's bedroom door.

"Sure thing."

"Sweetie, I need to…"

"Go to work?" she offers. "But I thought you were off?"

"I am, I need to…"

I have spent the past few hours between cursing myself and banging my head against the kitchen table. I'm restless to only say this. I need to get it out, to get whatever's bothering me out of my system. Of course I can't go to Sara so that only leaves me one more viable option. I never thought I'd see the day when I'd say those words but, to desperate times, desperate measures…

I need to speak to Adam.

Now, I haven't told Lindsey that I was in therapy with Sara. I'm not going to work which means that saying I'm going to work now, would be a lie. But then again, can't I consider therapy as an extension of work? After all I'm working on my relationship with Sara for the benefit of our professional lives… right so it's not a lie…just the unelaborated truth.

"Yeah, but I won't be long. Three or four hours top."

I doubt I will stay in Adam's presence that long, but I'd rather make a wide estimation rather than a short one, less room for disappointment.

"Okay, see you later then," Lindsey shrugs before returning her attention to her book.

I frown and stay on her threshold, waiting for her to focus on me again.

"Is there something else?" she asks after a minute.

"Yes, I'm taking you to your aunt's, so get ready," I snort.

"Aww… mom," she whines.

"Linds, I'm not leaving you alone in the house."

"I'm thirteen!"

"Almost and even if you actually were, I'd still wouldn't let you alone in this house."

"You know one day you'll have to trust me," she sighs putting some item in her backpack nonetheless.

"Baby, I do trust you…I don't trust the rest of the world, that's different," I point out seriously.

She rolls her eyes, knowing that even if we argued on that point for hours she won't win. I know she's growing up and I trust her not to set the house on fire or to open the door to strangers, however my job showed me that the danger is always at the door. And I almost lost my daughter once, which was more than enough, so I'd rather ease my worry with the knowledge that she's in company of responsible adults that I trust.

Nancy, doesn't ask any question when I drop Lindsey off, I promise I'll be back soon before driving away to Adam's office. I spend fifteen minutes in my car outside of Adam's office, trying to recreate the reasoning that led me to think that this was my only viable option.

Hating being wrong or the idea of having had a lapse of judgment I exited my car anyway, now I'm waiting in front of a closed door, and it doesn't sound like it will be opened anytime soon. I sigh, ready to walk away, maybe it's not such a bad thing that I'm unlucky.

I'm startled by the door opening itself suddenly, revealing a dishevelled Adam, wearing white heavy cotton shorts which arrive to his knees and a black Wayne's World t-shirt proclaiming 'You're magically babelicious'. I snort and purse my lips tightly not to laugh out loud and immediately look away before looking down. I can't help shaking with my smothered laugh and I feel tears gathering at the corners of my eyes. I take a deep breath and compose myself to look at him again. He's impassive but I can see the twinkle of amusement in his eyes.

"I had the feeling you were coming, so I dressed up for the occasion," he deadpans, forcing me to smother another laugh.

"I'm flattered, as long as you don't tell me that I tested high on your stroke-ability scale or call me Baberaham Lincoln," I come back and for the very first time I see a full blown smile on his lips, he lets escape a throaty laugh for a second before composing himself again, but keeps on grinning.

"Can I be frank?" I ask as seriously as I can.

"Ok, can I still be Adam?" he gives me what I wanted and we both chuckle.

I shake my head a bit to be serious again. "It didn't occur to me that you would be sleeping. I'm sorry, I should have called before coming," I state seriously.

"It's alright."

"I didn't mean to wake you up, I'm going to let you go back to sleep."

"It's okay Catherine, my office is open any day at any time, don't worry."

"I'll come back another time…"

"I'm awake, and you're here, we might as well make the best of the situation," he says honestly, with his calm and deep voice. He steps aside, silently inviting me in.

I hear him close the door before passing me by. "I can change if my attire makes you uncomfortable," he offers.

"Nah, don't bother, I won't stay long anyway," I wave my hand, as I take my usual spot on the couch.

It's weird to see him, to see Adam the human being and not Adam the shrink. For the first time I study him; his hair has grown a bit longer ever since we have started the therapy, now it's full of small black curls, I notice how his dark chestnut hair made his green and golden eye stand out; his casual clothes, his bare feet, his slightly puffy eyes, his facial feature still full of sleep, his stubble; to witness all those little details is unsettling but at the same time oddly intimate. For a moment I feel like he and I were long time friends. Truth to be told I think that if he wasn't my shrink we could be good friends on the outside.

"Do you want something to drink?"

"No, thank you I'm fine."

He goes to sit on his huge chair, adopting an Indian style position on it. I guess that since he's in casual clothes, he might as well be comfortable. He takes a long gulp out of a big glass of milk then wipes his upper lip with his thumb and puts the glass on the little table next to him; then he grabs the book resting on it.

I've always wondered if it was a natural thing for him or he was putting an extra effort to appear like we weren't in the room, like this wasn't a therapy. He always seems to find something to do with himself until we decide to speak. Maybe he's so use to this that it's a routine for him.

Like right now for instance, he's reading a comic book – Calvin & Hobbes no less, giving me time to sort out my thoughts. I can speak if I want to or decide that after all I don't want to speak and leave. He laughs silently – the small movement of his head and shoulders let me know that much, at Calvin's antics and turns the page.

I've never felt offended by his casual attitude though, on the contrary, he never makes me feel oppressed by the situation, I can still hold on the knowledge that I have a little control in his office, even though he's the master in command as he called himself.

"My father…" I start but trail off. The second my voice resounds he gives me his undivided attention, closing his book immediately. "Alistair Flynn, well, I've learned three years ago that he wasn't genetically my father but that's irrelevant, he's my father as far as I'm concerned. Anyway, before he could get his own company, my dad used to build houses and buildings. Sometimes the building sites were far from home so he would be gone for a whole week before coming home for the week end. Sometimes it was weeks before we could see him.

Don't get me wrong, he was there as much as he could, and there were times when he was home every evening. I mean he was as present as he could, I know he has refused a few jobs to stay home when he thought it was the best for the family. And when he was away there wouldn't be a day without him calling home to speak to everyone. He was always sad to leave us, but he always said that he was lucky to do something he loved, that allowed him to put food on the table and give his family the life he wanted."

"Wise man."

"That he is," I nod and smile with pride. "I remember, once he was gone away for a job. It had been almost three weeks that we hadn't seen him. So my mother decided to surprise him, and we went on the construction site. You should have seen the way his face lit up when he saw us. He hugged us and kept saying that it was good to be home. I didn't understand why, because we were outdoors and far from home for all I knew."

I stop the telling of my memory, letting my gaze wander around in the office. I frown as I feel that something striking me as different but can't put my finger on what. I focus again and try to remind myself why I was talking specifically about that day to Adam.

"I asked him, why he was saying that it was good to be home. I remember him sitting me on his knees and saying 'pumpkin, four walls and a roof make a house, not a home. Home, for me is where my family is at my side; where I can see my children playing together and hear them laugh; where I can watch my wife and see her smile; where I can hold each one of you in my arms. It doesn't matter where it is. When I'm home, I feel strong, I feel warm with radiating love, I feel safe, I feel happy and complete. Home is a feeling pumpkin'," I mimic my father's voice with a small smile.

"And he told me that it was easy to feel it with your family, but that when I grow up I'll find that they are many ways to get this feeling. Home is different for everybody, the only thing that doesn't change is the fact that it's a feeling," I finish my memory.

"Home is a feeling…" I repeat pensively with the sigh.

"Do you agree?" Adam finally speaks once he knows I'm done.

"I think he's right. It took me time to understand what he meant by that, but yeah, I agree," I nod. "I mean, I know I feel home where my daughter is," I add. "I think in the end that's what people are looking for, to be able to recreate this feeling with the people sharing their lives. My father's right, it's easy to feel home with your family, well most of the time it is. It's complicated to do it with the rest of the world though," I point out. "The thing is that the feeling is so…strong, that even if you feel it for a split second, when it's taken away from you it hurts…"

"Who took this feeling away from you?" Adam asks after a moment.

I turn my head when I finally put the finger on what was bothering me earlier. I guess you could call that a professional hazard, since I'm forced to visually photograph scenes, out of habit I photograph every room I ever walk in. The last time I came here, Adam's books were resting on the floor. "It's new," I state out of the blue.

"What is?"

"The bookshelf, it's new."

"Yes."

I stand up and move closer to the new furniture. I brush it with my fingers after a long observation, I whistle in appreciation. "The subtlety of the carving, the shape… it's truly magnificent. Where did you get it?"

"It's a gift."

I turn to Adam, and make an impressed pout with a nod. "The least you can say is that you have friends with good taste," I smile, Adam makes a tilting movement with his head but doesn't say anything.

"You avoided my question," he states after a long silence.

I chuckle. "Nobody avoids question, what they avoid are the answers, you should know better," I tease him.

"It's a matter of point of view," he shrugs. I snort and shake my head lightly before sitting down again. "Who took this feeling away from you?" he repeats.

"No one," I reply after a moment. Adam just stares at me impassively with a penetrating gaze. "No one!" I repeat forcefully.

"You don't need to convince me Catherine," he simply replies.

"Then stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like…" I huff and shake my head "No one took that feeling away from me… it wasn't…it wasn't it…" I shrug as I explain. I sigh and calm myself again realizing that my behaviour makes me look like I was trying to convince him. I take a deep breath and settle down.

"You know how sometime you want something so hard…you yearn for it so much that you convince yourself that you got it the first occasion you get, just because you're tired of waiting…" I shrug.

"So you play make belief?" he ventures.

"I guess you can say that."

"Then how do you know when this is what you want?" he asks tilting his head. "How do you know you're not actually convincing yourself that it wasn't that feeling?"

I stare at him blankly not having any answer. "You got me…"

"We all have desires, we all yearn for something. Somehow though, in order to get what we want we have to tame our desire and temper it; because as paradoxical as it sounds it's only when our mind is cleared of passions – and here understand 'passions' as feelings in general – that we can fulfil our desire."

"Tame and temper my desire… easy," I snort with sarcasm.

For him to tell me that feelings cloud my judgement is nothing new and I can absolutely apply it when I work. Now, when it comes to life and my relationship with people, even though I'm wiser as time go by, I just can't be that detached and clear minded.

"Shame there's not a switch somewhere that turns off feelings when I need to be clear minded, life would be so much easier…" I add after a moment.

I sigh and cover my face with my hands. This isn't exactly what I was looking for, however I do feel a bit better now that I've talk to someone, well… calmer at least. I think that I still need to adjust to therapy. I'm still under the impression that somehow Adam knows the answers to everything and that after seeing him everything will be fine. That , of course, is completely wrong.

I have this image in my head, I'm lost in an unknown and dark forest, completely panicked. Adam, who's by my side doesn't tell me the exact way out even if he knows where it is. Instead he gives me a flashlight, says some words and wishes me good luck. That's not exactly the help I need but it's help nonetheless. What makes things even more interesting is that the flashlight is like a puzzle, I need to figure out how to turn it on, and I can only do that if I understand the meaning of Adam's words…which can take a while because sometimes I think that gibberish is Adam's first language.

I sigh again. "So much for the flashlight," I mutter.

"Excuse me?" he asks genuinely intrigue.

I chuckles. "Never mind. I better go, I promised my daughter I wouldn't be long," I announce as I stand up. "Thank you very much for receiving me."

"Again, my door is open at any time any day."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

I put my vest back on and make my way around the couch. I look at him again and he is opening his Calvin & Hobbes comic book. "We have a session next week, right?"

"Yup, party time," he smirks.

"Excellent," I make horns with my hand – the international 'Rock on' sign, and giggle a bit. I turn to leave but I found myself burning to ask him something. "Since I know you won't release the information willingly, I'm going to ask."

He scrutinizes me silently then a subtle grin appears on his lips. "The first one is way better, you just can't beat the classic," he says seemingly out of the blue but I'm a bit taken aback by the fact that he answered my question without me asking it.

"How did you…?"

"I took a wild guess," he snorts. "Plus the fact that you stared at my shirt gave me a clue."

I smirk, I guess he's better than me at deciphering body language. "I agree, the second one is fun, but not as good," I shake my head and walk to the door.

My hand is on the doorknob and the door half opened when he speaks again. "To thine own self be true…"

I stop on my track and look at him puzzled. "What?"

He looks up from his book and look at me innocently. "Sorry?"

"What did you just say?"

He pretends to think about it for a second and to finally understand what I mean. "I was just thinking out loud," he replies with a wave of his hand.

Right.

If there's one thing I've understood fairly quickly since we've started this therapy, it's that Adam doesn't say much, but none of his words are spoken in vain. Each word, each question is deliberate. There's no such thing as him thinking out loud, if his words weren't directly addressed to me.

I wait a bit, in case he would expend on why he was 'thinking out loud' and why those words, but he doesn't, I guess that's one more clue on how to turn on the flashlight.

"I'll see you next week," I say and wait for him to nod before leaving his office.

xxxxx

Against all odds, I have a great moment at Sara's. I thought things would be a bit awkward but they weren't. Lindsey and I went to her apartment to have lunch and meet her sister, if Lindsey wasn't overjoyed at the prospect, she had a good time.

Hazel is much different from Sara, first physically – I saw a picture of the Sidle clan, parents included and I must say that Hazel is a carbon copy of her mother. Sara and her are almost polar opposite yet they are like two peas in a pod. It was good to see Sara and her banter and tease one another, and even if I knew Sara could be goofy, I never knew how much until today. Seeing them being so happy with one another and to listen to them talking about their antics with their brothers was really entertaining. It made me think about the fact that sometimes I do wish Eddie and I had had another child, not that I'm not happy with Lindsey, I am more than happy with her in fact. It's just that I wish she had a brother or a sister to share things with, like Sara shares with her siblings or like I do with mine. When things go well between brothers and sisters there's nothing like it. I know that as much as my brothers, Nancy and I can disagree with one another sometimes, we are always there for the other and it was good growing up to have someone to turn to when we were in our 'parents can't understand' phase.

We stayed at Sara's late enough to share dinner with them. Lindsey didn't want to leave, Hazel and her really connected, and not only because Hazel propose to have her come visit her in California as soon as possible. As a proof Hazel and Sara took Linds out today they went hunting for books or so was the original plan, I'll wait for them to come back to know what they did.

As for myself I've been on the couch for the past forty minutes, trying to muster the courage to place a call. I've been thinking about my conversation with Adam; the situation with Sara and all that. I came to the conclusion that I had to take things in hand, to stop waiting for things to happen. If I'm honest with myself I want someone to make me feel home, not just fool myself into thinking that it's happening. Which is why I'm now dialling the number Nancy had stuck under one of the magnets of the fridge a little more than a month ago.

I hold myself from hanging up as soon as I dial the number.

"_Hello?"_ a warm voice answers.

Damn… just my luck they had to answer after two rings only, I wish I had had the answering machine.

"_Hello?"_

Right… should I speak or hang up?

"_Hello?"_

"Hi…" I reply quickly with a strangled voice. I clear my throat and compose myself. "Hi, I… I'd like to speak to Julianne…"

"_Speaking."_

"Hi, I'm Catherine…Willows, Nancy Flynn's sister," I announce. There's not reply on the other end, which makes me think that this was probably the worse idea I ever had. "Hello?" I call after almost two whole minutes of silence.

_"Yeah…sorry…I… I wasn't expecting that call anymore to say the least… I was even starting to think that you were a figment of Nancy's imagination,"_ she jokes.

"Yeah… I work night and it's hard to find the appropriate time to call people…that and well life and work…"

_"It's okay."_

Another silence ensues, but then she chuckles.

_"Alright, we both know what it's about so might as well get it out of the way, as awkward as it is."_

"Yeah, so, the question is to know if you're still up for a drink with me."

_"Let me think about it… no, not really,"_ she answers seriously.

"Oh…okay, well…" at least she went straight to the point.

_"I was joking, I'd like to,"_ she adds.

I chuckle and relax. "Great," I smile.

It wasn't such a bad idea after all.

* * *

**I know, I know some of you will be mad at me for this but like I said I have a plan. **

**The references Adam and Catherine make are from Wayne's World 1 & 2. **

'**[…] To thine own self be true […]' is a quote from William Shakespeare's **_**Hamlet**_**. I voluntarily do not put the quote in its entirety because the verse will come back fully later on. But for the curious ones who can't place it, the reference is Act I, scene 3, lines 78 to 80. **

**Exams are approaching on my sides so it may take a little while before the next chap, but I'm working on it.**

**Thanks for reading. **

"Your sister…" I repeat softly, I'm still not anymore convinced than when she told me this on that fateful day.

"Yeah, my sister," she reaffirms with sigh.

"The blonde, young woman…"

"In my apartment that day was my little sister, Hazel," she persists.

I feel my legs being very weak all the sudden, so I seat on the stairs as well. "This is not a joke, is it?"

"I tried to tell you," she protests a bit.


	22. Chapter 22

**Hi everybody, thank you so much for the reviews, you guys rock, as always. I'm sorry if I'm taking so long in between updates, but I can't write as much as I'd like to at the moment. And for some reason Fanfiction won't upload my files so I had to find a away to go around the problem... Anyway…**

**Enjoy,**

**So ;)**

**Ps: **freddie**…. I don't suppose a warning is useful now :P**

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**Chapter 22**

_Sara's POV_

I'm the first to arrive to our session, a usual occurrence on the days Catherine and I don't work together. Adam is in his chair, writing, he only lifts his head long enough to greet me in.

I shed my jacket and put it behind me as I seat down on the couch. I take a look around, like I always do. It's a habit from work, to pay attention to the little details of a room. Even when I'm not working, it's training my visual memory. I notice that Adam has put his books on the bookshelf.

"So what won?"

Adam looks at me and I make a small motion of my head toward the bookshelf. "Chronological evolution of the trends of thoughts."

"Ooh, intricate one."

"I went with themes first, but it turned out that my choice was the more neutral."

I chuckle. "I think color or size, would have been more neutral."

"Neutral, but also random."

"Fair point."

"So, how are you today?"

"As fine as any other day, I guess."

"Good to know."

After a second or two of silence he returns to his writing.

"Are you writing a book?" I joke.

"Nope, just words."

I shake my head at his way to dodge every question about himself.

"I drew a line," I announce finally. "Your advice was good… about both parties knowing where the line is."

"Are you satisfied with this line?"

I think about it a bit before answering. "Yes, actually," I frown as I'm trying to find my words. "I never thought it would have such an impact."

"What do you mean?"

"Well…now I don't have to worry about some things. The lines mark the limits so… in a weird way it's also a safety net. Anyway, the point is that it helps… and for a first line, I'm glad about it."

"That's a very good thing."

The door opens hastily as Cath all but runs in, she stops and leans over her knees to catch her breath. "I'm here… gee… I'm not late, don't say I'm late…please," she pants.

I chuckle and shake my head before looking at Adam. "One more minute and you would have been, but no you're not late," he smiles subtly.

"Oh great…" Cath breathes out in relief and lets herself fall on the couch. "I know how anal you get about punctuality."

I giggle, that's true, Adam has a thing for time.

"That's one way to put it," Adam replies.

Catherine goes to the fridge, drains a bottle of water and takes another with her as she sits on the couch.

"So, what's up Doc?" Catherine asks with a smirk. I chuckle as the image of Bugs pops into my mind.

"I'm hunting wabbits," Adam replies in an amazing mimic of Elmer Fudd, which only makes me burst into laughter. It was so unexpected that I can't even stop myself before my eyes become wet.

As I'm trying to compose myself again Catherine joins in, and Adam – after trying to resist, finally gives in and we are all laughing like kids for several minutes, making reference to that dear Elmer. I'm brushing a finger to the corner of my eyes to catch the tears that have pearled up there and breathe deep.

This is exactly why I like Adam. Because he's unlike any shrink I've ever had, actually he's really out of the box, and that makes him really special, in a very good way.

"Good one," Catherine lets out with a last giggle.

"Is there anything you want to talk about?" Adam asks finally.

Catherine looks at me, silently asking me if there was some topic I'd like to tackle but there aren't any that comes into my mind.

"I was thinking… I had the feeling that Sara and I had faced every big issues we've had in the past, so I'm starting to wonder where's the point to go on with this therapy. Not that I don't enjoy your company, but, I just think that your job here is done… at least I feel so," Catherine states.

"Do you agree Sara?" Adam simply asks.

"Well, I do believe we have covered some of our biggest issues, now I wouldn't say that we're good to stop."

"For someone who hates therapy that's quite a rich answer," Catherine snorts and looks at me like I had just betrayed her.

"I'd rather let that slide than play this game today," I dismiss her.

"Oh let me guess since you had therapy before you know it all, uh?" she keeps on. I don't understand her sudden aggressiveness but I know better than to reply right now.

"Let's make a little exercise, shall we?" Adam cuts in. "Catherine stand up and place yourself in the middle of the room."

Catherine frowns in question but doesn't say anything and obeys.

"Now, Sara I'd like you to put yourself exactly five steps behind her."

I stand up and put myself next to Catherine, then I walk my five steps behind. "Let's make that six, please," Adam corrects himself, and I comply, before facing Catherine's back.

"Perfect," Adam nods once he's satisfied. "Catherine, I want you to close your eyes and breathe deep, then when you feel ready, let yourself fall backward and Sara of course will catch you."

"Okay," Catherine replies uncertain.

She starts to rock gently on the ball of her feet but never let go. Several minutes go on and she's still standing, probably not aware of her silent confession. I on the other hand hear her statement loud and clear. I knew it, but I didn't need to have a confirmation.

"I can't," she finally gives up.

"Of course you can Catherine. You won't, that's different," Catherine shakes her head a bit in protestation. "It's not a matter of power, but a matter of will."

"Okay, fine, but I don't see what that has to do with anything."

"It means you don't trust me," I spell out for her. "Or rather, that you don't trust me as much as you want to believe."

"Of course I do!" she says firmly, turning around to look at me, a bit irritated that I would question her trust in me.

"Then, let yourself fall," I defy.

"I'm scared alright!"

"Scared that I won't catch you," I elaborate.

"It doesn't mean I don't trust you," she argues calmly.

"That's exactly what it means..."

"I trust you!"

"Like I said, not as much as you believe," I reply flatly. "But don't worry, if that makes you feel better, I'm not ready to let myself fall in your direction either," I add in all honesty. She has a little recoil as if my words had physically hurt her, I just walk back to my side of the couch and sit down again before looking at the window.

"You're right Catherine," Adam speaks again. "You have broached some of the biggest issues that were standing in between the two of you, and that was a good beginning. However, everything has yet to be done."

"This is ridiculous… I trust Sara …"

"Catherine… if you can't trust that Sara will do anything to catch you while you are in the safety of my office, what makes you think that you actually trust her to have your back when you're on the field?" Adam asks her.

"This is…" Catherine starts but shakes her head, not finding any answer. "This is different… it's not…" she tries and fails again.

"Obviously, we still have reason enough to gather in my office on regular bases," Adam simply adds before going back to his armchair.

Catherine sits down again silently. She frowns and looks at me. "You don't trust me…" she repeats in a whisper. "That hurts…"

I snort a bit. "It goes both ways," I simply reply.

xxxxx

I'm home preparing snacks for Hazel, Brenda and Lindsey. Ever since the dinner she's had here Lindsey has been at my apartment regularly, especially to see Hazel, you'd think they are sisters when you see them interact. We've gone to the movies, to the bookstores, to the museums; Hazel joined force with me to teach Lindsey how to cook, well we've been having a good time, and I think Lindsey is warming up to me.

I was a bit apprehensive about Brenda meeting Lindsey. Brenda is extremely shy with new people, but as it turns out, things are going fairly well. They get along, I'm not saying they'll become best friends or anything, but they enjoy each other's presence and that's more than enough for me.

"Hey, everything's fine?" Hazel startles me, I hadn't seen her arrived near the counter.

"Yes, I'm making mini sandwiches and other snacks."

"You're expecting the army?" she teases me as she sees all that I've prepared.

"Hazy, you're about to discover the amount of food those two can gather in their stomach, trust me when I say we'll be lucky if we actually have anything for us," I nod in direction of Brenda and Lindsey, who are currently wondering which movie we should watch first.

"Oh come on, look at them, I'm sure they will barely finish anything."

"Yeah," I snort. "Keep telling yourself that."

She shakes her head and helps me to bring the different trays to the coffee table. The wolfish look on both teenagers lets me know that I actually might have to prepare another round soon; I swear these two could eat an elephant when they are hungry... literally.

Several hours, many laughs, critics, and two movies later we are playing guessing game with drawings – and Hazy and I are losing partly because we are both terrible at drawing, well Hazy more than me.

"Come on Sar it was easy!" Hazy pouts.

"Oh, yeah you call _that_ a dog? It doesn't look anything like a dog! It looks like… like a sausage with wings!"

"You're just bad. It's a dog!" she protests. "Look, that's the ears, the…the… it's a dog!" she starts to point out her last drawing. Brenda and Lindsey are barely breathing as they are laughing so much at our bickering and also at both Hazy and I drawing skills.

We're still playfully arguing when my doorbell rings.

"It is _not_ a dog," I repeat one last time before going to the door.

I open after looking through the peephole, and find Catherine waiting on the other side. "Hey there," I greet her.

"Hey."

"Come on in."

She enters my apartment a bit hesitantly. If Lindsey has been around quite often, Catherine and I have been kind of distant with each other. I must say that it's not so much my doing than hers. I think that putting in evidence our trust issue during our session with Adam made big damages on our progress. I mean, having to say out loud that just because we were getting along and closer didn't mean we had a complete trust in one another… it hurt her deeply. And ever since she's been guarded from me, I didn't push the issue, knowing that we'll work things out when she's ready.

It's not like we didn't trust each other at all. I mean there was a degree of trust, after all we did confide in each other at times. But the trust we have so far is fragile and not exactly concrete, proof was made in Adam's office when Catherine couldn't trust me to catch her.

That was a little more than three weeks ago, and we are officially at a stand still now, it's barely if we're trying to work on our friendship outside Adam's office. The only time we talk is in session or at work, other than that, we chit-chat quickly when she comes to pick up Lindsey from my place, or when I drop Lindsey off.

I know it's a phase, I mean, we will face the issue… eventually

"Hi everyone," Catherine announces her presence, and everybody greets her back.

Lindsey, seems a bit disappointed to have to leave now, but doesn't say anything and starts gathering her belongings.

"Do you want something to drink?" I ask Cath.

"No thanks, we're going anyway," she gives me a pinched smile.

"Sure," I smile shyly. "How was your day?"

"It was alright, thanks."

Obviously I won't get any more from her.

"I'm ready," Lindsey announces right on cue.

"Thanks for coming by Linds."

"Thanks for having me, see you soon."

"Sure thing, see you at work Cath."

"Yeah," she mumbles before exiting my apartment. I sigh as I stare at my front door.

I feel a gentle hand on my shoulder, I turn my head and see Hazy looking at me with concerned. "Is everything okay between you two?"

"Yeah… we… we're having a tough time with therapy…so we're kind of taking our distance…well she needs distance…"

"Alright," Hazy nods and walks to the table to put everything in order with Brenda.

I leave Hazy and Brenda talk while I wash the dishes.

"Sar?" Brenda calls me as she leans on the counter.

"Yes monster?"

"I was talking about our trip to Lindsey… I know it's our weekend and all, but… would you mind if I asked her to come?"

"Not at all, the more the merrier. How about bringing Hazy along?"

"Cool."

I caress her hair and kiss her crown affectionately.

"I'm hungry," she states and I chuckles.

"How can you be hungry again? After all you ate?" Hazy asks as she joins us near the counter.

"I'm a teenager," Brenda just shrugs.

"Told you," I stick my tongue at Hazy and the three of us laugh softly.

xxxxx

All the team is in the locker room, changing, getting ready to go home. We are all bantering friendly, teasing one another. It was one of those shifts when we had funny cases or just a lot of paperwork to fill.

"Hey," I sit next to Cath as I put lace my boots.

"Hey," she smiles shyly to me.

"I was uh… wondering if you'd fancy a breakfast with me?"

"I can't, I'm sorry, I got plans."

I nod silently. I've been asking her for drink, or something to eat, or just a little time together for five weeks now, and that has been her answer every time I've asked. I don't take it personally and think that maybe she's just focusing on having time with Lindsey.

"Lindsey said that she was going to your place tomorrow," she speaks again.

"Yeah, is it okay with you?"

"It is, but you know you can tell her no, if you need time for yourself…"

"Hey, it's all good, Hazy and I enjoy her presence and Brenda as well when she's around."

"How is Brenda?"

"She's fine, thanks for asking."

Her phone rings, preventing interrupting our moment. "Hey… no sure, I'm leaving… see you soon, bye," she smiles into her phone. She hangs up and stands. "I got to go, have a nice day," she grins at me quickly and doesn't wait for an answer before exiting the locker room.

There goes our longest encounter in five weeks. I decide to look on the bright side, she responded and was a little more open. After all, every baby step counts, as long as it's forward.

"Everybody's gone already?" Greg asks as he enters the locker room.

"I'm afraid so," I smile apologetically.

"Oh man… I wanted to propose a get together around a breakfast."

"That would have been nice," I reflect.

"Well… we can still have the breakfast and little committee if you don't have plans," he proposes after a second.

"Sure, why not," I shrug. I grab my jacket and follow him outside.

xxxxx

Another two weeks go by quietly. Our therapy sessions seem to reveal a lot of issues we hadn't thought about before, but we don't get the chance to work on our relationship on the outside because she always dismissed my invitation, or just don't come to me to talk.

We are slowly communicating again, but we are stalling as far as working on our friendship goes. It kind of feels like we were divorced, and sharing the custody of Lindsey. Lindsey who is at my place two to three times a week and even stays over on the week-end nights when Brenda comes over as well.

Actually, I think that Lindsey is the reason why Catherine is warming up to me again. I'm patient and I don't stop believing that we will get back where things took a wrong turn.

Lindsey is once again the reason I'm at her door right now. When she opens the door, the smile on her lips fades away, something tells me that I wasn't the one she was expecting.

"Hey…" she eventually greets me.

"I'm sorry, to come unannounced, I won't be long I promise."

"Sure, come in."

I enter her house but we don't get further than her threshold. "I came to talk to you about Lindsey."

Her expression changes immediately, between worried and edgy. "Has she done something wrong?"

"No! No, no… nothing like that," I rush to tell her. "I don't know if she had time to tell you about this or not, but Brenda asked her to come with us on to our trip. I've rented a place at a leisure center next week end… not this one, the one after… anyway, I've rented this place so we can go on a hike, there's a lake to swim in and many more activities to do. Hazel, Brenda and I would really enjoy Lindsey company. I can assure you that I'll take great care of her and that nothing will happen to her. And…"

"Wow…I don't know about this… how much expenses are we…"

"Stop right there, you don't have to worry about anything. Everything has been taken care of, I just want you to give it a thought. It would really be great if you allowed her to come with us. And you could have the week end all for yourself. We leave on the Friday afternoon and come back the Sunday evening. And if you want she can sleep over at my apartment on Sunday and I'll drive her myself to school on Monday morning. So you see all you have to think about is whether or not you're okay with the idea."

She's taking everything I've just said in.

"You can even come with us… if you don't have any plans," I offer.

"I…"

The doorbell interrupts her, but she doesn't move and keep looking at me. "It does sound great but…" whoever is behind the door is impatient because they ring again. "I… yeah… I'll give it a thought… would you excuse me?"

She opens the door, revealing a tall ginger headed woman.

"Hey you," the woman smiles, she then bends forward and kisses Catherine on the lips. Catherine's hand immediately rests on the woman's cheek as she kisses her back. I look away feeling immediately embarrassed at my intrusion into their intimacy.

"Come in," I hear Catherine whispers. I hear her clear her throat. "Sara?"

I finally look up from my shoes. "Yeah?"

"I want you to meet Julianne. Jules, this is Sara, we work together."

I'm a bit hurt by the introduction, because I've just retrograded to the 'just co-worker' status, I was a 'friend from work' not so long ago. I don't dwell on it and grin politely at the woman as I shake her hand, the one that isn't linked with Catherine's. Now I know why she always had other plans when I asked her for some exclusive times outside of work, or why she wouldn't even come to me to talk after long shift… guess it wasn't about spending time with Linds after all. I inwardly chuckles, I always thought she'd took time for herself when Lindsey was staying with me, for some reasons dating wasn't on the list. Not that it matters, mind you.

"Nice to meet you," I say as I snap out of my thoughts.

"Nice to meet you too."

Julianne is pretty to say the least, her green and blue eyes are sparkling; she is voluptuous, her forms are just… well… more than a little attractive, especially considering that she knows how to put herself to her advantage.

"I was just about to leave," I immediately state. "So… Cath, think about the week end and I'll see you at work."

I hurry myself to go out, not wanting to wear out my welcome.

Good thing is that now I know that she wasn't really avoided me, she just had better things to do, like focusing on her date.

I think I'm bothered though.

No. I know I'm bothered, but I don't know what bothers me, that's what I'm thinking as I climb behind the steering wheel. I try to think hard and analyse what I feel, but I clearly can't grasp it. I guess the light will come on its own time.

xxxxx

"Please, say you will come," Greg asks with a begging tone as he sits next to me in the locker room. He has his hair a bit up today, I like when he takes time to have an original hair style, it reminds me of the days he was a lab rat and goofier than he is today; not that he doesn't joke around anymore, but since he's become a CSI, he tends to be more serious and less laidback. I can't blame him, I know he's eager to prove himself, but I miss the 'old' him sometimes.

"Okay… you will come?" I reply wittily, he rolls his eyes and I chuckle. "What is it about?"

"I have tickets for a concert, a really cool band, they're new to the scene, but trust me they are good. Anyway… I was supposed to go with Nick, but he just bailed on me…"

"Did you ask Rick?"

"That's the thing he has a date with Nicky…"

I frown and tilt my head. "They have a date together? They are…" I shake my head and have a defeat motion with my hands. "Man, how come I'm always left out of the loop?" I pout a bit.

"What? What do you mean?" Greg wonders before understanding. "Oh… no, not like that silly!" he chortles.

I raise my hands in surrender. "Hey, whatever rocks anybody's boat."

"They go on a double date with one lab tech and her friend," he elaborates.

"When is it?"

"Tomorrow night… I know it's short noticed but please…. Pretty please, I don't want to go alone, or to give those away," he pouts a bit and gives me his best little abandoned boy look, I have to admit he's kind of cute when he does that, which makes me laughs a bit.

"Alright, why not…"

"You're the best!"

"Yeah, yeah…" I singsong dismissively and shake my head again.

"No use into taking two cars, I'll pick you up at six, that's good for you?"

"Rock on," I reply in a Grissom fashion. "Oh, and they better be as good as you said they are cause if not, you'll owe me big time."

He groans in response and hangs his head. "Alright, fine you got a deal."

"Cool, see you tomorrow at six then."

Considering that we've closed a big team case, tomorrow the swing shift will stand in for the night shift, as a result we are all off for the next shift.

I go home, take a long shower and change before going to bed. Hazy, has gone to visit one of our cousins in Chicago, she'll just come back in time to go to our week end away; which reminds me that I am still waiting for Catherine's answers regarding Lindsey's permission to join us.

I think I'm bothered about the fact that Catherine didn't tell me anything about Julianne. It's not that she has to tell me anything, but… I don't know, a part of me would have liked to be notified. I wonder when they started dating…

My mind is still racing when Morpheus finally takes me with him to dreamland.

xxxxx

"Greg, I swear if I wasn't driving, I'd punched you," I say with a laugh. "You can not honestly think that 'Fall at your feet' was written by James Blunt, whose cover is, by the way, 'just okay' but nothing much. For your information this is an original song from Crowded House written by their front man Neil Finn," I reply vehemently as we debates over the song coming from his radio. "And you must know that Neil's interpretation, on the album or live is always the best. Now if you're looking for a good cover, you got to listen to Glenn Richards."

The concert was fun, the band was really good and there was a good atmosphere over all, so Greg and I both enjoyed ourselves. After the show we went to play pool and have some drinks, debating over music, Greg turned out to be almost the junky that I am for music so we're really having a blast.

We decided to buy food and take it to my place so we could watch 'This is Spinal Tap' before 'The Monty Python's Holy Grail'. Once we're at my place though, we keep debating on music and I'm rummaging through my obscenely big CD collection to make Greg listen to songs I like or just so the both of us can sing along with some 'classics'. Soon we are both dancing, mimicking famous guitar players.

"Rock'n'roll ain't no pollution! Rock'n'roll ain't gonna die…"

Greg makes the famous duck walk initiated by Chuck Berry before becoming Angus Young's signature move.

"Rock'n'roll… is just Rock'n'roll yeah!" I finish.

Greg lets himself fall on my couch with a laugh. "Thank you folks, you were awesome!" he says to our imaginary audience with his hands in the air.

"Oh do you have a Pocket full of Kryptonite?" he asks suddenly with excitement.

I stand and go to my CD book shelf. "Sure," I grab the said CD almost immediately – even though I probably have over hundred CD, I almost always know where each one is. "Want to hear one specifically?"

"Yeah, I just told you."

"No you didn't," I tilt my head.

"A pocket full of Kryptonite."

"That's the name of the album, which song do you want to hear?" I tease him because I know exactly which song he's talking about.

"Well the song of the same name."

I feign searching the track list. "Hmmm… sorry no song with that name," I shake my head.

"Oh come on, you know the song."

"You got to give me clue Greggo."

He plays on his air guitar and starts to sing the melody. "I don't think I can handle this…A cloudy day in Metropolis…" he sings loud and half off tune which is hilarious, mumbling half of the lyrics.

I try not to laugh, but I can feel my eyes watering so much I want to give in.

"Wait a min… you know exactly what song I'm talking about… you little…" he starts to run my way and I escape as fast I can.

We chase each other around my living room, jumping over the couch and laughing like teenagers. He finally manages to get me, we both fall down and he straddles me before tickling me until I can't breathe.

"Come on and say you're sorry," he orders.

"Never!" he tickles me harder and my ribs start to hurt with my laughter, so I cave in. "Okay, okay… let me go… please…"

"I am the master!" he stands up and raises his arms in victory. I get on my feet and give him a light punch in the stomach and we start to fight gently. This time I take the advantage and lock his head under my arm before rubbing his hair with my fist.

"Aha! Who's the master now?"

We keep wrestling until I feel my fist connect with his face; his hands shoot up to cover his nose.

"Ouch!"

"Oh my god, Greg I'm sorry."

He becomes serious all the sudden. "I think you broke my nose," he says with a voice mumbled by his hands.

"Ow… I'm really sorry, I didn't mean it," I apologize again, immediately fill up with guilt. "Let me see."

He moans in pain but doesn't remove his hands. "It hurts…"

"Let me see…"

His moan changes into a chuckle and he reveals a very fine nose. "Got you!"

"Oh!... you…" I slap his shoulder. "You, jerk!" he laughs and tries to stop my fists from hitting his shoulder. "I should actually break your nose! Dumbass!" I chastise him, but even now I can't hold my laughter. "I can't believe you…"

Whatever I was about to say dies on my lips… or rather on his…

…as he kisses me.

We look at each other as he pulls back. My brain has been short circuited so I just stare blankly. He chuckles a bit, perhaps a bit embarrassed seeing my reaction. He stays there and waits, but I can't, for the life of me, find anything to say.

He smile doesn't fade, but he looks away and nods a bit as if accepting a rejection. When he looks at me again he pinches his lips together and grins before taking a step back. That's when I take his hand in mine, forbidding him to go away. I give it a little tug but keep staring at him.

It's funny because Greg and I are so close that I always thought that if we'd kiss it'd be blend; that our lips locked would feel as 'exiting' as our bare arms touching, or as exciting as a kiss on his cheek.

I never thought, even for one second that I could feel a little sparkle ignite in the pit of my stomach. After the split second of surprise, that's exactly how it felt, like something I didn't even know the existence of was just coming to life.

I can't put the sensation on the alcohol or any substance, because we are both very sober. It's so unexpected though, that I need a confirmation, I need to know if what I felt for a second was really there.

I slowly lean in and brush my lips faintly against his before closing them over his bottom lips.

A small shockwave full of surprises spread through my entire body before I pull back.

Wow… that's nice, and not just a little.

We are now grinning at each other. I don't think either of us was actually prepared for these new sensations.

Our lips are locks again and this time our hands join the party, exploring this brand new territory.

xxxxx

I'm sitting down on the floor, my back against the back of my couch, as I watch the life going on outside my window.

I hear Greg coming before I see him sitting next to me, Indian style. "Freaking out already?" he chortles, his voice is a bit lower than usual, still altered by sleepiness.

He rubs his eyes with the balls of his palms and yawns a bit before focusing on the scenery again. He's only wearing his boxers, I for myself am wearing boxers as well and my shirt, half buttoned down over my bare skin.

I chuckle as well. "Nah, I haven't started yet, I was waiting for you," I come back.

Kissing each other earlier eventually led to a more physical exploration, an unexpectedly pleasant one.

"There's always been this thing about you… this feeling in the pit of my stomach made of all the 'what if'…" he states after a long silence.

"I make you feel like you had a stomach bug… nice," joke.

He laughs softly.

"To be honest though I hadn't felt that… thing… for several years…" he goes on. "I mean, I got over it, because things had changed," he shrugs.

I snort. "At random times I tried to picture something like this happening between us and it was just…" I shake my head.

"I know… it was just not happening…" he finishes my though with a nod of agreement. "Don't worry, it was the same for me…"

"Yet it happened…" I go on with a tilt of my head. "And it didn't feel…"

"Incestuous…" he says tentatively.

As odd as his choice of words sound it's exactly what I'm thinking. With the years we've come to consider each other almost as brother and sister and our relationship was always evolving with this idea. Yet, when he kissed me, none of that mattered.

"Exactly," I confirm. "Actually it felt…"

"Good."

"Very… surprisingly so…"

"Unbelievable…" he whispers.

"You said it…" I nod. "So… where do we go from here?"

"I have absolutely no idea…" he watched me with a surprised and lost expression that can only mirror my own. "All I know is… that if it was just tonight, then it's a precious memory, very precious."

"For me too…" I admit with a small smile.

We stay silent for a long moment, still trying to wrapt our mind with the new dynamic I guess. "Are you… freaking out?" he asks suddenly.

I think about it for several seconds. "No. You?"

He shakes his head after a moment of reflection "No," he snorts with a smile.

"Oddly enough it doesn't feel weird…"

"Yeah… so… what do we do?"

"How about we play it by ear?" I propose, looking at him.

He has a small movement of his head with a little pout. He doesn't replies though and just stares at me. He starts to lean toward me but stops midway, I eventually join him and our lips touch shyly. We both smile once we pull back.

"I like that plan," he finally says before relaxing and leaning against the back of my couch.

"Cool."

We both stay there, contemplating the city, everything is the same, yet somehow they've just changed.

Amazing how life can surprise you when you least expect it.

* * *

**Didn't see that one coming, right? :P**

**Ok, ok, (hands up in surrender) I know some of you might be making a lot of effort at the moment to control their gag reflex, _but_ I asked Mojo to be original and that's the _only_ path he showed me, saying that it will lead us to our goal, so blame it on him. **

**That being said, I trust my Mojo so I know there will be light at the end of the tunnel. Keep having faith in me, I got a plan.**

**Thanks for reading.**


	23. Chapter 23

**Hi everyone, I'm sorry about the long delay but health and life are getting in the way of my writing, anyway, I'm finally back. Plus since I apparently ruined the story for most of you (sorry about that, but I stand by my choice) I thought there wasn't any rush anyway :P (jk)... Last but not least, thanks for the reviews and the flames (yes, I really do mean it) it was a bit cold over here in Paris, so the litle warmth was very nice ;)**

**Enjoy,**

**So ;)**

**Ps: **Immi**, thanks for your guidance, your advices are the best ;)**

**

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Chapter 23**

_Catherine's POV_

I sigh deeply as I slowly gain consciousness. I'm quickly getting aware of warmth surrounding my body, as my hand bumps into an arm wrapped over my stomach. I yawn widely, progressively recollecting my memory from last night.

My fingertips trade lightly on the soft skin of Julianne's hand.

We had a little argument last night, we were supposed to go out, and then for some reason I got cold feet about it. She's always been really understanding with my job, with Lindsey, and so far she's the one who has made all the effort for us to work. And last night wasn't any exception, in the end she compromised, yet again, so we stayed in and salvage the rest of the evening.

It's weird when you think about it. After our first phone call, when we finally met, we spend the entire evening talking for hours, like we were two old friends catching up with one another. I remember not wanting the night to end, and somewhere it didn't because we stayed together up until the dawn.

Julianne is sweet, she is really… but she's just that.

On good days I tell myself that I'm just being too guarded since my past relationships have been disastrous. On other days, days like right now, I feel the little tug inside telling me that though it's good, it's not enough, that I'm just putting a lot of effort into convincing myself when I shouldn't.

I do like her though, I like the way she treats me and I like our relationship; I'm just not sure of where this is going or if I actually want it to go somewhere. I'm not playing with her but I can't help always questioning myself about our relationship. I want it to work yet it seems that I'm always the one to complicate things.

I mean, she works things around my schedule, she doesn't ask for more than she can get, she lets me set the pace, she always has the kindest attentions to me. If I'm honest, I do kind things for her to, and I even surprise her at work on my days off, but I don't feel that I'm involved as much as she is after eight and soon to be nine weeks of relationship and that bothers me.

I want to be with her though, I want to… at least I think I do… I don't think my doubts will ever subside so I should stop over thinking it all and focus on making things good. That's always the problem with me, I always worry about things and incessantly question myself when I should learn to be contented with what I got and enjoy it fully.

I hear a sigh and the hold on me tightens a bit. "Hey you," Julianne whispers before kissing the back of my neck.

I turn around in her arms so we are facing each other, "Hey," I grin gently. We kiss sweetly then I pull back. "About last night…" I start.

"Cath… it's alright, you don't have to explain," she dismisses me.

"No… it's not…I'm really sorry about my behaviour, it was out of line and uncalled for… I know that everything has been quite a roller coaster with me lately and I'm sorry about that…"

"Cath, really, you don't need to explain."

"I know…It's just that… I don't exactly have the best track record when it comes to relationships so it's still a bit hard for me to find my marks at first."

She nods and caresses my cheek.

"I like you and I really like us," I finally say, and I mean it.

"I do too… on both accounts," she smiles. "And yes you're quiet a piece of work sometimes… but I figured it was part of your charm."

I roll my eyes and chuckle softly. "You're really sweet," I tell her before kissing her softly.

I feel her hand sneaking under my top and teasing my flesh. "What time does your daughter comes back?" she asks before nibbling on my earlobe.

"Uh…" I shiver lightly. "In three hours…"

As soon as the words left my mouth she shifts our position so she almost completely on top of me; her touch is soft and gentle, it always ignites a tingle but so far no fire…

I lose my train of thoughts as she's nibbling on one of my weak spots, my hands goes to her back and soon we are getting rid of the layers of clothes keeping our skins apart.

xxxxx

I park my car in front of the lab. Sara and I have been around, interviewing people in order to establish the chronological movement of a gun that was used in our case.

"The link is still thin between Dan Jessup and our gun, so either he lied to us, or we're missing something," Sara states as she falls in stride with me.

"So far if we follow the information we have gathered, he was never given the gun."

"Yet the gun was found in his locker, so we still don't know how he got it."

"Let's hope we got lucky with the samples we took from the scene."

She simply nods and we keep walking in silence. Greg volunteered to analyze our swabs – he doesn't say so, but I suspect that he misses his old job, even though he enjoys being a CSI.

"Greg, please say that you got something for us," I smile at him.

"For two hot ladies, I always do," he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, I shake my head with a grin, some things just never change.

"The results Greg," Sara replies sternly.

"Now, hold on, this is a threesome, I please you, you please me," he winks. "Greggo needs a little motivation from his beautiful girls."

"The only thing you'll get in a second is my foot up your ass," Sara is exasperated for some reasons. That's the thing with Greg's flirting game, some days it's okay and others not so much. I guess it's not the right day for Sara.

"Oooh, kinky much, sweet. I like my women wild."

"Grow up," Sara comes back sharply before walking away. Greg looks a bit hurt as he watches her leave but quickly get his attention back to me.

"So, did you get anything?" I decide not to comment on Sara's behaviour.

"Uh, yeah…"

He tells me about the results of his analyzes and the ever present odd trace we've found. I fill him in on what Sara and I have found out. Since he still needs to analyze some other traces, I decide to get a bit ahead with my paperwork, before helping Sara with the phone records.

After another six intensive hours we end our shift. The pieces of the puzzle are slowly falling into place, and it appears that Dan's story is more complicated than he first let on. We actually believe that he wasn't alone, but the answers will wait next shift.

I go in the locker room and change, I'm about to close my locker when I hear the distinct sound of a tiny object falling on the ground. I look down just in time to see the ring Lindsey gave me on mother's day roll away, under the lockers and further into the room. Great.

I scat down to find it, sweeping my flashlight so the ring's reflection indicates me its location. I huff and start to move around the locker section, it's right under the furniture behind the last lockers. After some wiggling while lying flat on the ground I finally brush the ring, but I'm still a bit short to get it. I contort myself a bit more to gain the extra inch.

Just when I finally manage to wrap my hand around the ring, I hear the door open and close, but two different footsteps. Lockers are being opened and there's a rummaging sound going on.

"Hum… I hope I wasn't too harsh earlier," Sara's mumbling resounds all over the room, she sounds uncertain, shy even.

"Nah, don't worry," Greg replies softly.

"It's just that it's… "

"Weird?"

"Yeah, it would have been suspicious if hadn't said anything… at the same time I couldn't really go with it…"

"I know, it was the same for me…"

"It's hard to adjust…"

I know that eavesdropping is wrong but I must say that they have my full attention. I don't really understand what this is all about, after all it's not the first time Greg jokes around with less than subtle sexual innuendos – it _is_ his trademark; and it's certainly not the first time that either Sara or I storm off with exasperation at his antics. I would admit that Sara was a bit harsher than usual, but I've snapped at him before as well. I did apologize and I've seen Sara apologize before, enough to know that the scene unfolding right now is a little odd.

"Yeah…"

I move myself closer, I look at them while being hidden by the lockers, intrigued as to know what's going on. They are turning their back to one another, both changing shirts and gathering their belongings.

"You're sure it wasn't too much?" Sara turns around but averts her eyes immediately when she sees Greg's bare back. Is she flushed?

"No, don't worry," Greg turns around, facing her while buttoning his shirt.

Sara mimics him and she actually gives him a once over with her eyes before they both smile shyly and look away. "So… we're good?" Sara asks.

"Yeah," Greg grins back at her, and I swear I hear a sigh of relief from Sara as she leans against her locker.

Body language doesn't lie, and in their case everything's obvious, but my brain simply refuses to process the information. This is just so wrong…

"Do you want to go to my place?" Sara's shyness is shed to reveal a twinkle of excitation in her eyes and her whole body tenses but not with angry tension…

"I was thinking we could go to mine, so I'd make you a breakfast?"

"Breakfast… good idea," Sara pushes herself away from her locker, strides over the bench so she's close to Greg, they're not touching but there's extra inch letting know that the personal space limits have been redefined or that they have disappeared altogether. "Something tells me we're going to need a _lot_ of stamina," she adds before biting her bottom lip.

No way…

Greg's eyebrows shoot up but his… lustful gaze?

What the…

His… expression mirrors Sara's. "Is that so?" he smiles lazily. Sara just tilts her head a bit and her tongue swiftly passes over her bottom lip, which transfixes Greg. "I'll… I'll drive ahead… see you in twenty," he stammers before gulping. I don't doubt that Greg's highly pressured blood is heading south and quick. He clears his head with a little shake and takes a deep breath before walking away.

Sara chuckles to herself before calling him back. "By the way… kinky, uh?"

Greg turns around with amusement. "I believe, the word was 'wild'," he winks at her before leaving for good. Sara waits almost a minute – using that short time to steady herself – before taking her backpack and following him.

I'm frozen on my spot. That scene did not just happen, I'm not awake…

Greg and Sara???

Did I wake up in some parallel universe without noticing? Maybe my coffee was spiked… there's just no way for what I've just witnessed to happen in reality.

Greg and Sara???

I'm going to be sick… this is wrong on so many levels…

My stomach actually churns but I manage to keep it together. Just the thought that the two of them… could be… makes my head dizzy. I need to get out of here.

I close my locker and start to walk on autopilot to my car, suddenly I feel really away from everything, every sound has turned into muffled whispers, and people are mere shadows.

Greg and Sara…together…

I fasten my pace until I finally reach fresh air. As soon as I'm near my car I lean against it bend forward and put my hands on my knees, I heave but my stomach is almost empty so only bile comes out. I support myself on my car with one hand and take a few deep breaths to steady myself; then I go to the driver side, open the door and grab the bottle I always keep in the middle armrest. I take a large gulp which I spit out on the patch of grass next to the car to get rid of the acid and bitter taste lingering in my mouth. I take another gulp to appease the tingle in my throat.

As soon as I arrive home, I spend twenty minutes under the shower, no matter how much my mind is blocking any thought of the anything that happened before my panic attack, somehow my bitter and fresh memory is seeping through making me nauseated and dirty all over again.

Once I'm clothed I lie in my bed, moistening it with my damp skin, but I don't care.

I don't know how much time passes by with me just staring at my ceiling but eventually I'm forced to move, if only to pick up my phone.

"Hello," I answer with a monotone voice.

"_Hey, babe. How are you?"_ the cheerful and warm voice of Julianne greets me.

Numb, that's how I feel right now, but answering that would lead to more questions when I just want to be left alone.

"Fine," I eventually reply. There's a long pause since I don't speak any further.

"_Tough day?"_ she asks tentatively.

I sigh after a few seconds. "Was there something you wanted?"

She snorts. _"No, I just wanted to have some news about my girlfriend, that's all."_

"Ok," I simply say, not remotely bothered by her bitterness. My coldness is uncalled for, after all she's not responsible for anything and she was just being sweet. I sigh again. "Listen… it's just not the right time," trying to smooth things a bit.

She chuckles dryly. _"When is it _ever_ the right time with you?"_

I guess I deserved that one.

"_Never mind. Have a nice day,"_ she adds before hanging up.

That's Julianne, rather than lose her temper and let her anger out she'll turn her heels and walk away. I should be bothered that our relationship is suffering one more strain – still and always because of me, but somehow I don't. Julianne will eventually come back and I will apologize and the cycle of our wonderful relationship will be complete only to start another one a few days after. Mind you though, it had been long since our last fall out.

I should be resting but my mind refuses to shut down, eventually I decide to clean my house so I can be focused on something else. But my brain doesn't let go, all I can do is seethe on my own, slowly building up anger, mulling over one thing.

Sara and…

Of all people, she chose to fuck him… this is worse than wrong, they are like brother and sister for fuck sake! How could she?! And him… oh I bet he's proud of himself, he finally has what he's been begging for all those years… still that's disgusting… Greg and Sara? Jesus, who's next Hodges?

I know I have no claim on Sara but it pisses me off to no end that she'd fuck Greg… how cheap is that? Has she been fucking him all along when her and I had our moments?

Greg… fucking Greg… this is…. Ugh… I'm going to get sick again…

She's such a… I can't believe her… using him like this… she's… she's… argh!!!

I growl in frustration when I don't find anything to clean anymore. My anger is still steaming hot and I need to release some tension, I need to, I just can't stand to be so wound up. I take another shower, get dress and leave the house. I'd go to Nancy to talk but, I'm in no mood to be analyzed and get her view on anything right now.

I end up parking my car in front of Julianne's house. I rest my head against the steering wheel, trying to calm down. I shouldn't go in, I should go back home and stew on my own. Going in and just… I'm screwing things up enough as it is without taking whatever I'm feeling out on her. Besides it won't solve the problem. The only thing involving Julianne that I should do is apologize. I can't so that right now though…

I glance at Julianne's place, take a deep breath and let it out. I turn the ignition on again and drive back to my sister's, if I don't talk to her at least she can keep me distracted. Twenty minutes later I reach my destination, as soon as I park, I exit my car and walk to the door hastily.

After knocking the door, I'm met by an expression of surprise and then some anger, which puzzles me. My sister is the quiet and tempered one. She's seldom angry – she likes to keep her energy for better purpose as she puts it. Well she's upset that much is visible, and even though she won't admit being angry, her eyes speak volume.

"Hey," I greet her.

"Hey," she echoes me. She seems reluctant to let me in which is weird but eventually she sighs and opens her door wider. I step in and understanding dawns on me, a second later my gaze crosses Julianne's as she's watching me from the couch where she's sitting.

She stands up silently and shoves her hands in the back pockets of her jeans. For a few seconds the three of us are watching each other, not uttering a word.

"I'll leave you two alone, thanks for having me Nance," Julianne announces. She grabs her jackets but keeps it in her hands, she walks to Nancy and kisses her on the cheek; she marks a brief beat as she comes to me, we look at each other, but she averts her eyes with a sigh before moving past me. I grab her wrist gently and she stops her movement, she turns her head slightly in my direction not really facing me.

"I'm coming back from your place…" I confess. "I wanted to apologize," I lie. Well, it's a white lie, I mean I knew I needed to apologize, but no it wasn't the reason I went there, but… well give me a break I'm trying to salvage things here.

She nods subtly. "Okay," she simply replies. She turns her head again, as if she was about to go.

"Jules…" I call her gently, guilt evident in my voice. "I'm sorry… I really am… I'm sorry."

She nods again. "Yeah well…" she snorts softly. "Yeah…" she has yet to look at me, a part of me is grateful not to face her though, because I don't think I'd bear to see the pain in her eyes. She takes a deep breath and licks her lips nervously. "I'll call you later," she declares then escapes my grip calmly. She opens the door, but eventually turns around and rests a butterfly kiss on my forehead, avoiding eye contact before leaving for good.

When I turn my back to the door, Nancy's in the living room, but I know she has witnessed every details of my exchange with Julianne. She's not that much angry than she's hurt and torn.

"I love you, but I do care about her…a lot…and I'd rather avoid having to pick up either of you with a spoon so… please trade carefully with her."

I don't reply. I feel miserable, but I don't have anything to say in my defence. Nancy's expression changes again and this time her natural and ever present affection is back. "Coffee or cocoa?" she simply asks.

"Cocoa," I grin to her, glad that she knows me well enough to know when I need comfort – even though a kick in my ass is also needed.

xxxxx

I never knew that my anger could actually influence my body heat, now I do.

I've been literally boiling for the past three hours. As fate would have it, Sara and I have an hour drive to our crime scene only to find that there was no crime to begin with, now we're stuck in the car again – still far away from the lab, and I'm on the verge of exploding. The way she acts as if everything was okay; my disgust at the mere thought of what's going on… I'm surprise I haven't combusted yet or ignite a fire to my seat so much I'm sizzling with anger.

"Congratulation on your new boy toy by the way," my tongue unties itself and words just comes out freely, I'm simply to pissed to actually hold them back or ponder them before they ring out. Paradoxically as burning as I am with anger, my words are icy cold.

Sara makes a double take as she glances at me, her unspoken words as loud as if she had screamed.

"You and Greg," I spell out. Colors drain from her face a bit. She wonders how I know, I could talk about yesterday, but it'd make me gag. "Yeah, your body talks more than you'll ever know. Mind you, having a new toy is always exciting," I snort bitterly. She steadies herself, yet unlike usual she tightens her jaw to keep herself from replying. Unfortunately her refusal to answer makes me angrier.

The sound of rubber invades the car from the friction of her tight, crisped hands over the steering wheels. I realise that we are moving faster than a moment ago, I have a brief moment of reason and think that spitting my venom at her while she's operating heavy machinery might not be the best idea. But then again, I surrender to the dark side of my emotions, so rationality isn't on the menu.

I snort. "To think that you were the one to insinuate I'm a slut…"

She keeps her eyes on the road and if it wasn't for her heavy, yet controlled breathing, I'd think my words weren't actually reaching her.

"Sara Sidle got a boy toy… oh wait… should I call him 'fuck buddy' as well?" I ask her with false amusement. "Right…I never thought collecting fuck buddies was a hobby of yours… makes me wonder what number I was…"

This time she speeds up dangerously before manoeuvring carelessly to the emergency lane and stopping abruptly, my anger is briefly frozen by fear at her sudden move. She unfastens her seatbelt and exits the car; she slams the door so hard it's a wonder that the glass doesn't break with the impact. She walks away as if she was powered with rockets. She actually walks so far that she vanishes from my field of vision.

Minutes pass and I haven't moved an inch, I could have driven next to her, I should have, I mean we're in the middle of the road, there's a lot of traffic and not that much light, so anything could happen to her, yet I'm still in the car, waiting for her to come back. That's how resentful I am.

It's another ten minutes before reappears in the headlights. She gets in the car and slams the door again, she's panting heavily. She grips the wheel and takes five big cleansing breaths.

"I'm going to pretend this never happened, for the sake of all the progress we've made so far. Whatever your problem is you'll have to address the issue differently. I'm not playing the bitchy game with you anymore," she says calmly.

I'm taken aback by her reaction, a bit frustrated too. I guess, she does know me too well to know that I was indeed looking for a fight; yet since she refuses to give me that satisfaction I have to be mature or at least try to communicate, basically she's shoving my little tantrum right down my throat. She wants to play the maturity card, fine, I can go along with it. I can be all mature and face my issue, I can communicate with her.

"Greg? Are you kidding me?!" my voice is still too loud for the confines of the car, I said I'd be mature and face my issue, not that I would hold my temper. "… Fucking Greg… I can't believe you!!"

"I don't answer to you Catherine, last time I checked I was free to see anyone I choose. You have no claim whatsoever on me," she replies with and even voice which sounds like a whisper compared to my shouting.

"You are fucking Greg, Sara!! Can't you see how wrong this is to use him like that?! This is just wrong and… when were you going to tell me?!... Greg! Damn it!"

"It's funny because try as I might, I fail to remember the memo you sent about dating Julianne, and you've been with her for what? Eight, nine, ten weeks? Matter of fact if it hadn't been for me coming uninvited to ask for your permission to take Lindsey on a week end trip, I'd still be in the dark… so explain me, what obligation do I have to tell you anything?" she shakes her head with a sigh.

"Oh so that's what it's all about? Payback? You didn't have to fuck Greg for that! You…"

"Catherine, I don't care who you're dating, or if you're dating at all for that matter," she cuts me off. "In fact, whatever you do on your time is your business, just like whatever I do on mine."

That last statement feels a lot like a punch in my guts.

She snorts tiredly. "You know you give me a hard time about us not trusting each other, but you make it damn hard to even _want _trust you, period. You act like everything was due to you, like I somehow owe you anything, I don't. If I want to keep whatever Greg and I have for myself, it's my business and you don't have any say in it, like it or not. I do _not_ owe you any explanation, warning or whatever. I don't even know why this is an issue at all, so this topic is closed." she puts me back on my place.

She turns the ignition on again. "And for the record I'm not using Greg, whatever's between us, it's between him and I; now I'd appreciate your discretion and respect regarding this," and with that she starts to drive again. She hasn't raised her voice once, she stayed calm and rational.

xxxxx

"Unlike what you might be thinking, there are still rules even though we are outdoors," Adam announces.

For some reason he decided to take us away on a week trip 'in the wild' as he put it. According to him, Sara and I have reached the point where such a trip would help us to build a stronger relationship on a practical level – whatever he meant by that.

So here we are in the middle of nowhere Nevada, it's a center of retreat. We are standing in the main building, which is, oddly enough considering that we are in a forest, quite a modern structure. It's a two story house, quite wide at that, it's made of wood and glass. Not too far from it and on each side stand two cabins, I assume that one of them is hiding our quarters for the week.

The first thing I notice is that we are not the only ones to have come to 'make one with mother nature'. However no one seems to bother about the others, so in a way Sara and I are alone with Adam.

"The golden rules still apply, even if we're outside of my office," he continues. "You can put your belongings in the cabin number four, here's the key," he hands us the little silver item with a small wooden eagled attached at the end of the keychain. "I give you two hours to get settled, the dinner is served at seven in the common room, but there are supplies in the cabin, in case you'd miss it. I'll be in the main building all the time, in case of emergency I'm in room 24 and you, off course, have my phone number. Any question?"

"Yeah, one, are you going to come and tuck us in every night?" Sara asks seriously.

Adam doesn't hide his soft grin. "And sing you to sleep, yes."

"Oh my, you're making jokes… I feel the apocalypse near," Sara comes back and I can only chuckle a bit.

"Alright, go get settle, I'll meet you in the main hall in two hours," he orders gently.

Sara and I grab our respective bags and go to the discovery of what will be 'our' cabin for the rest of the week.

I can't really say that I've been ecstatic with this trip, mostly because Sara and I haven't exactly been close lately. Ever since my little outburst in the car over a week ago, we've only talk within the boarders of work, except the greetings and occasional friendly short exchange. I take the entire responsibility for that, I'm the one who kept my distance.

I must say that she destabilized me a bit; she was true to her word when she said she wouldn't play the 'bitchy game' and that she would forget anything happened in the car. She has actually been acting like everything was fine. I'm not really used to this dynamic, I mean usually she'd be moody and distant; here I was the one to give the cold shoulder when I was the one to cause trouble in the first place. I'm not going to lie the whole 'fucking Greg' pills is still firmly lodged in my throat. I've had a hard time just not to snap at him whenever I saw him all this week, but I managed so I congratulate myself.

In any case, finding myself alone with her in the middle of nowhere, didn't sound like a good idea… mind you now that we're here it still doesn't sound like a good idea.

Sara's passivity regarding our 'non relationship', is bothering me at some level. I know I took my distance, but except from the random invitation for breakfast or chit-chat about Lindsey, she doesn't call me or pushes me to have contact. It makes me feel like I was being petty – I know I am, but… that's not the point.

I know, I know I'm contradictory, I want to be left alone and yet I want her not to accept it and to be bothersome with me… I guess I just want a sign that tells me that she doesn't like the situation, that she's affected by how the things are at the moment.

I know Sara feels, I mean she's not a robot, I know that much; but she always keep her emotions in check and that makes it impossible for me to even guess what she feels and it pisses me off, even after all we shared trying to figure out what she thinks is more like trying to crack a bank chest than cracking open a book.

We enter our cabin and it's quite cosy, there's a huge main room, on the left there are two queen size beds separated by a large open wardrobe; in the middle of the room are two large couches facing one another around a wood coffee table; behind the couch are two large bookshelf full of books, comics and little decorative figures, in front of the couch is a chimney; on the right there's dining table in front of the kitchen side; there's a door leading to a corridor, in which we can find the bathroom and the restroom, a storage room for food and a laundry room. One wall is almost completely made of glass as it gives onto a porch. The whole cabin is bathed into light as the windows are tall and wide, it smells of wood and there's an overall sensation of peace floating around, as if inside these walls had the powers to make the outside world fade away.

"Damn, if I had known I'd get a week free of charge in a place like this, I'd have volunteered to therapy a long while ago," I state.

"Tell me about it," Sara says with an appreciative pout as she's still looking around.

"Which bed do you want?"

"The one you don't take," she shrugs with a smirk.

"Fine but don't complain if you don't like it," I sigh.

We start to put our belongings away in the wardrobe in silence. We're both done thirty minutes later, Sara is lying on her bed with her arm over her eyes, but I don't think she's sleeping.

"What do you think it means?" I think out loud.

"What means what?" she replies without removing her arm from it's resting place.

"The fact that he brought us here, what do you think it means?"

"It means we're making progress."

"How so?"

"Well, let's face it ten months ago, if we had had to share a cabin in the middle of nowhere for an entire week, one body would have stayed in the middle of nowhere; I know it, you know it and so does Adam. So, if Adam brought us here it means that we have progressed in so far as we can successfully refrain our murder yearning toward one another," she reflects.

That's so cheerfully said.

"As anyone ever told you that you were depressing?" I ask rhetorically.

Sara stays on her bed and I go on the porch to admire the scenery while waiting for the time to meet Adam again.

xxxxx

"Are you settled okay? Do you need anything?" Adam queries immediately when we meet him again.

I look at Sara and she shakes her head a bit. "No, we're good thank you," I answer for the both of us.

"Alright, but don't hesitate to ask if you do need anything."

"Thanks."

"On we go then," he declares before walking away, silently inviting us to follow him.

The building has only two floors but the ceiling is extremely high, making the space looks bigger than it really is. Just like in our cabin the windows are high and large, here though almost all the walls are made of glass so the place is very luminous. There are large stairs in the middle of the ground floor; a dozen of doors are surrounding the hall; all around the hall there are groups of three comfy looking armchairs in semi circle with a small wood coffee table on which are magazines, newspapers and others.

Adam guides us to a large office with a big bay-window offering us a magnificent view on the forest. Sara and I both take place on the couch in the middle of the room. The office itself is not much furnished, whoever has built and decorated this place liked playing with the space, if this room is anything to go by, everything has been made to make you believe that the space is wider than it really is.

"I wanted to talk to you about this trip and what you will be doing," Adam gets our attention.

"What 'we' will be doing? As in, you're not participating?" Sara wonders.

"I will participate to some things, well if not participating, I will be supervising. There will be exercises and we will then review everything together. However, I want you to know right away that tomorrow you will learn everything you need to know about this new environment and how to build a tent or a shelter, because you will have some exclusive time in the forest, by yourselves."

"Build a tent… how long exactly are we going to have an 'exclusive time' in the forest?" I ask immediately.

"So far most people need three days to do the whole exercise and come back, only one 'team' made it in four days, but don't worry if anything goes wrong or if you need to come back in emergency, you'll have ways to reach me."

I turn to Sara. "You know earlier, even though it was depressing to hear you say it, I agreed about the murder yearning, now I don't know about you but I'm not sure that your statement will applies in the forest," I state.

"Fair point," she chuckles.

xxxxx

After two days of activities such as climbing, obstacle course and learning about the dangers of the forest, map reading, or refreshing our knowledge on first aid assistance; we are now checking our gears for the 'big hike'. We've learnt to build up a tent, to find edible things should we run out of food.

So far I must say that my cohabitation with Sara has been going fine, we don't speak much when we are alone in the cabin. There weren't any awkward situations yet, she's a quiet roommate. I'm wondering how she does to keep up though, she barely sleeps at night, in fact she spends most of the night on the porch, either reading or just contemplating the scenery; yet everyday she's as fresh as a daisy and energetic as a kid on sugar high.

I have yet to find unbearable habits in her, the only one I noticed so far is her singing whenever she's doing something, sometimes she doesn't notice, other times she does it consciously.

In spite of the forced proximity, Sara and I don't talk much when we're alone, once the 'Lindsey' topic becomes dry it turns out that we don't have much to say to one another. No that's not really true, truth to be told ever since I put some distance between us, the dialogue hasn't completely come back. I'm guilty for that and I know it, Sara… well Sara doesn't push me, so basically if I'm waiting for her to make the first move we would die of old age before it happens.

At the same time, I didn't want to argue with her. As quiet as our relationship might be at the time, it's comfortable.

"I think, you're finally ready to go, let's review one last time the details of the exercise and make sure you have all the equipment you might need," Adam announces once we've done and undone the tent in a five minutes time frame.

When Adam deems that we are ready he explains us what we will be doing – yes, because apparently we're not going to camp in the forest for the sake of camping, Adam prepared series of 'tests', basically it's a giant scavenge hunt. As the time for us to go comes closer I'm starting to be apprehensive. Sara and I have never been completely alone for entire days. What if we fight? What if it doesn't go right? Will we actually try to kill and dump the other's body? I mean of course most of the time it's a joke but I've seen enough at work to know that one should never underestimate either their primal instinct or the power of their impulses – as crazy as they might be. Human beings are animals and we can do anything according to any circumstance and one second is all it takes to make a wrong decision.

Alright, fine maybe I'm being over dramatic… but I honestly don't know if I'll be able to bear with Sara's silence and passivity. We've been here for two days and she makes me want to scream, and I want to shake her senseless, but go figure, once in the forest I might lose it.

"Hello?" Sara's voice cuts through my thoughts.

"Sorry, what?"

"You might want to take another sweater," Sara repeats herself.

"I'm good," I reply.

"It's cold at night."

"I'm not sensitive to the cold, I grew up in Montana, remember?" I say a bit harsher than I intended.

"Right…I still think you should an extra sweater."

"Again, I'm good."

"Suit yourself," she mumbles. "Let's get going then."

"You know that's one of the things about you that get to me, this 'I know better than anybody' attitude you can adopt sometimes," I tell her right away as we start getting on track.

"I'm sorry, if I upset you, I'm just saying better be safe than sorry," she apologizes immediately, but she's not being sarcastic, she genuinely apologizes, I like that openness between us, even though things aren't exactly great, at least we have that.

xxxxx

The next four hours go silently we are following the map and so far we have managed to get all the flags Adam has scattered around.

"What do you think, should we keep looking for flag number 8 or prepare ourselves for tonight?" Sara asks me.

"Judging by the light I'd say we still have two hours of good visibility… and according to the map, 8 is near a water point, so might as well get there."

"Alright."

"You disagree," I state.

"Last time I checked 'alright' implied agreement," she frowns.

"It does, but not when you use that tone."

"What tone?"

"The one saying you think I'm wrong, the one meaning 'whatever'," I reply petulantly.

"What's the real problem here? Because you've been picking on every little thing I've done or said as if you were trying to get a reaction from me. Do you need us to fight so you can get some release? Is there something you want to talk about?" she asks casually.

She's not wrong, I admit that I might be blowing things out of proportion. I do want a reaction from her, a fight, anything really so I can tackle the subject that is really bothering me, or at least get us on track. We may have made progress as far as communication is concerned, it's still hard for me to 'just speak'. I can't help it, it's scary, it's easier for me to have a fight and say what I want to say rather than sit down and open up; at least when I communicate with Sara. And if we don't have an argument, I guess I want her to take the lead and ask questions, at least then I don't feel… well… exposed.

Yet now that she asks, the words won't come out…

"Never mind… I'm sorry," I sigh and start walking ahead of her. She doesn't say anything and just leaves me in peace.

The 8th flag isn't any harder to retrieve than the ones before. The only thing that makes that hike interesting is the scenery, because except that, we don't need skills to get the flags. They are in plain sight, on trees or rocks, but that's about it.

We set our tent and start to look for dry wood as the daylight is slowly fading. The evening goes by quietly, we make fire, eat a bit and then go to sleep.

xxxxx

I'm shivering. I'm under my sleeping bag, wearing my sweater and I'm shivering like a leaf. I'm shivering and Sara is letting me freeze to death. I don't question Sara's awaken state, I know from the few times we've been intimate that she's a light sleeper, the slightest sound is enough to wake her up, so I have no doubt that the constant chattering of teeth and shaky breathing is keeping her well awake. Yet she's ignoring me. I know why she's doing this; it's her way to say 'I told you so' without actually saying it. I could be proud and just grit my teeth through the night, after all neither of us would get sleep, but then again Sara doesn't sleep that much on regular bases…

Oh to hell with pride.

"Fff-ffine… I sh-sh-sh-should have… li-listened to you…you were right… th-th-there I said it," I admit with trembling words. "No-now I'm freezing my ass off… puh-lease can we sh-share body heat?"

Though it's pitch dark, I know she's smiling that little smile of hers that she has when someone admit that she was right in the first place.

"Sure, let's zip our bags together to make a big one," she simply says, trying hard not to sound like she was gloating.

We turn on one flashlight long enough to reduce our personal space in order to profit each other's body heat. I'm still a bit cold but it's nothing compared to a moment ago. Sara and I are back to back, but every single spot where our bodies connect radiates with burning heat.

"Sara?" I call her in a hushed tone.

"Hmmm?"

"Just how long would you have let me freeze on my own?"

She chuckles lazily. "The question is how long would you have been too proud for your own good?"

"I can't believe you, so you'd have let me die in the cold if…"

"Goodnight Cath," she singsongs effectively cutting me off in my ranting.

xxxxx

Sara groans in effort. "Okay…" she says with a strained voice. "Can you touch it?" she asks me as I'm on equilibrium on her shoulder, stretching of all my length to get a flag. I'm not anywhere near to touch it with the tip of my fingers. We've been trying to get it for over an hour now, without success, and it doesn't look like we will ever get it. We're in between two rocky faces separated by approximately fifty feet in between them a small water current is running, a small canyon if you will; one of the faces is a hundred feet high, and the other too high for me to even guess and on this specific face, thirty feet above the ground, is a big tree root and on this root is a flag.

Sara and I have climbed several times only to always be too short to actually reach the damn root, because there's not so much grip on the face so we can't get high enough to touch our goal. For the first time since this whole trip has started we are stuck.

I make a wrong movement and lose my equilibrium, Sara tries to catch me back but ends up losing her footing so we both found ourselves, in the water.

"Damn it!" I curse with frustration and crash my fist in the water.

"You know I actually wonder how the hell he put it there in the first place…" Sara states with a snort.

"I don't know but I bet that pervert is laughing his ass off thinking that we can't reach his stupid flag."

Sara laughs at my irritation. I splash water at her face, which only serves to amuse her more.

"Alright, I propose that we move to the next flag," she announces before standing up.

"And leave this one? What? You quit?"

"It was just a proposition, we've been at it for more than an hour now and we have something like twenty more flags to get."

"Yeah, and what if the twenty others are as hard as this one? Then we're done," I say a bit edgily. There are things I can't stand, one of them is to quit. I don't like admitting that I'm defeated, and I'll be damned if I let Adam and a stupid flag defeat me.

"Fair point."

I sigh and stand up I'm so frustrated by the flag that I don't even care that I'm half soaked. We tried everything but the flag is tied to the roots – Adam actually tied it, so it's not like we could throw something to make it fall, so if we can't reach the root, we lose.

"Besides it's not about you or I, it's about 'us' as a team. And our team never gives up, we are… we are… what's our name again?"

"You're Catherine and I'm Sara," she replies matter-of-factly with her usual wit.

"No…" I roll my eyes, I snap my fingers in quick succession as the words are stuck on the tip of my tongue. "We are the… the awesome twosome!"

Sara chortles. "You do realize it was an ironic nickname from the boys when we kept losing the paintball games, right?"

"Yeah but it's true, we don't give up even when we lose! Anyway, fact is that we are a terrific team. We're not going to give up, not only that, we're going to get the goddamned flag and then shove it down Adam's throat," I say vehemently.

"Okay, I'm with you, you're right about being a team. There's still a minor knot, try as we might, we can't reach the flag. Now, there are two of us and we can't get it; there is obviously a way to get it which mean that either Adam has climbing skills we don't have or we are approaching the problem the wrong way."

"I know…" I grunt. "Trust Adam to know exactly how to drive us crazy, I swear I'm going to choke him to death with his flags, all of them and…"

"That's it, you got it!" Sara exclaims suddenly.

I frown. "This is frustration talking, I mean I'm sure we're perfectly capable to dispose of a body without leaving any traces but I kind of like Adam enough not to kill him… sure he gets on my nerves but still…"

"No… not choking Adam, the key is the 'trust'," she elaborates.

"Okay, you lost me."

"Adam said that we have reached where we can build a stronger relationship on a practical level… that's it, trust is the key, the most trust challenging way we can find to get the flag will be the right one."

"That still doesn't give us the answer."

"Well… we can't get the flag from down there… so…" she looks up. "How do you feel about jumping from the top?"

I narrow my eyes are her. "Is the sun hitting you harder than me?" I ask rhetorically. "The water is thigh deep at best, the cliff is about fifty feet high; with the speed of the fall the only thing it will break is our bones, or worse. Now, I don't know about you but I haven't developed super powers over night and I'm pretty sure that spider webs won't come out of my wrists at the last minute, so jumping from the cliff doesn't sound like an idea at the moment. And I, personally, find it a bit extreme to kill ourselves over a flag."

"Sarcastic much?" she smiles at me with amusement. "I don't have super powers either, but we do have a rope."

"Somehow I already hate your idea…" I mutter as we make our way to reach the top of the cliff.

About thirty minutes later I'm geared up with a harness and attached to a rope; the rope itself is has been rolled around a thick tree bole, and Sara is holding the other side of the rope.

"Alright, explain it to me again, what are we doing and why am I the one doing it?"

"You're going to jump forward as far as you can, with a little luck you'll reach the other face, therefore the root and get the flag to choke Adam with. Now, since it's not easy I expect us to need several attempts, that's where I come in, I'm going to use the rope to break your fall safely by giving you some loose little by little on your way down."

"Why am I the one jumping? You're the daredevil here."

"You're lighter than I am," she winks at me. "You're ready?"

"No…"

"Cath," she calls me and waits till I'm looking at her before speaking again. "I got your back," she reassures me immediately.

"I know that, I'm not…" I trail off watching the root facing me on the other face. "It's a fifty feet jump… it's quite different from letting myself falls backward and hope you'll catch me."

"You'll do fine. Now remember to brace yourself when you swing back. I'm ready whenever you are."

That's easy to say, I feel like I'm going make a bungee jump without the bungee, in fact it looks like I'm going to willingly crash myself down. I feel a chill coursing through my blood and bones, I won't lie I'm scared. I mean, in theory it's all okay, I still have my doubt on the practical level though. But like I said I hate to quit so as stupid and dangerous as it is I'm going to give it a go, besides the trust in my relationship with Sara is at stakes. I need to prove her and myself that this trust is there, in spite of our differences.

"Alright, on three," I say suddenly before being so scared I'll have to chicken out. "One…" I take a deep breath and let it out. "Two…" I take a few steps back to get some élan. I put myself in a ready-to-run-and-jump position. I look at Sara who's holding the rope and nods at me, I then zoom my focus on the root. "Three!" I exclaim before running to the edge of the cliff and jumping forward.

My heart is thundering hard in my chest as I'm falling at great speed. I brush the root from the tip of my fingers. I keep falling and I can literally see myself crashing on the water. Fear grips me so hard I'm even too petrified to cry out.

My fall is abruptly broken barely a feet before I break my neck on the water, I register a small pain where the harness is holding me. I'm slowly landed in the water, I manage to stand on wobbly legs, not hearing anything above my jack hammering heartbeat.

"Cath! Cath! Are you okay?...Cath…" Sara's worried voice finally pierces through the haze of my fear. "I'm coming down!"

I hold my hands in front of me, they are shaking violently. I don't know how much time I stay there, just looking at them but I'm taken out of my transfixed state by Sara who puts her hands on my shoulders before cupping my face. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?" she enquires as she scrutinizes me. "I'm so sorry, I misjudge the rope length, I didn't think you'd get so much loose… I'm so sorry, this was a stupid idea… are you sure you're okay?"

Laughter erupts from my throat; a genuine laugh at that.

I should be mad, and go off on Sara. She almost got me severely hurt, worse even I was reckless enough to go through with her idea in the first place. Yet, now that the danger is away, and that my fear is shedding itself from me, as odd and unexpected as it is I feel completely and utterly alive, like I hadn't been in a long time.

I'm alive and I can feel it, my heart is pumping blood in my veins with so much force it's exhilarating. I'd never thought I could get any feeling like the one I'm experiencing now while being sober. If I had known that adrenaline rush would be such a powerful feeling… it's incredible.

"Cath… you're scaring me, are you alright?"

"Yeah…" I smile even wider than a moment ago. "I brushed the root… come on help me going back up then we'll do it again."

"Cath, forget the root, are you okay?" Sara repeats. I take a second to observe her and I realize that she's blemish, and her features are disturbed by worry.

"Sara, it'll be fine…"

"Cath…"

"It'll be fine," I reassure her and I'm absolutely convinced about that fact. One other thing is sure, I don't want to let go of what I'm feeling right now just yet. I undo the rope from the harness and take the lead to go up the cliff again. "Come on, let's try again."

We reel the rope back and link it to my harness once again.

"Cath, we should stop there…" Sara states as she's making sure the rope is tightly attached to my gear. "It _was_ a bad idea, I think we should give it a rest. It's dangerous."

"It's okay, we just need a few tries to find the right rhythm and the good length of the rope you have to let loose."

Sara's looking at me like a third eye had just sprouted out of my forehead. I think she was expecting me to yell at her and tell her that she was crazy if she thinks that I'm going to jump again. I think she was expecting me to have any kind of reaction except the one I'm having now. "Do you realize that I almost got you hurt?"

"But nothing happened, and you had my back just like you assured me before I jumped. Can I assume you have my back now?"

"Of course I've got your back, but I was careless to have this idea to begin with, and I feel that it's a lot of risk just for a flag."

"Sara, you got my back, right?" I repeat, ignoring her reasoning, too eager not to lose the feeling of being alive.

She's staring at me, gauging my seriousness. Then determination sets in her eyes. "I do. I got your back."

"Let's get that flag then," I wink at her before checking the rope and visualizing my next jump.

The next jump is a bit short because Sara doesn't give me much loose; the shock of the stop isn't as blunt as the first one; the landing, though awkward is soft. By the fourth jump we have reached a good balance, Sara knows when to hold back the rope and slow down my fall; I know when to jump and how much force I need, each time after my jump I turn around so I softened the swing back against the cliff with my feet; Sara always gives us two minutes to breathe before helping me getting back up.

I would have thought that eventually the adrenaline rush would disappear as I get more and more at ease with my jump, but truth is, if anything, it developed tenfold.

Ten jumps later we are both panting and sweaty with effort. I actually managed to grab the root the jump before the last one, but the momentum made me let go. Sara's top is clinging her skin a bit, the muscles of her arms are stiffed by the effort, glistening with sweat…

"Ready?" I ask Sara in a breath shaking myself out of my drooling session.

"Whenever you are," she grabs her end of the rope and puts herself in position.

I rock myself silently twice before starting my race to the edge. I wait an extra second before jumping, for that second when I'm still in the momentum of my jump, when I'm still fighting gravity, that's when I feel an indescribable feeling of bliss; for a second there's nothing but this and I love it.

I finally grab the root again but I hold firmly onto it even when I fall a bit. It takes me several attempts to untie the flag but I succeed. I let go and Sara gives me loose quickly so I land on the water.

"Woohoo!!" I shout at the top of my lungs, with my fists up in the air. Sara briefly disappears from my field of vision. Instead of making her way around to get down and join me, she uses her side of the rope to climb down the cliff, jumping several times against the face of the cliff.

She rushes to me through the water and takes me in her arms before lifting me up as we both exult with joy. When she lets me down we high five each other and then she wraps one arms around my shoulders.

"I told you we were the awesome twosome!" I laugh.

"Damn I feel like we could push a mountain now," she exclaims.

She makes us both fall into water and we savour our victory, laughing joyfully.

We are definitely an awesome team.

xxxxx

We don't get a chance to get all the flags, before the sunset, so we leave the five remaining for tomorrow and our way back to Adam. I must say though that Sara was right about feeling like moving a mountain, the 'root flag' was the beginning of a series of flag forcing us to think outside of the proverbial box, they turned out not to be half as hard but still physically demanding.

Now that we're enjoying the firelight and some food, we are both covered with a variety of cuts and little wounds, not to mention the bruises. But over all the days was very good, once we had the 'root flag' we didn't stop talking and bantering, I found myself asking her questions I never asked her. I asked her about the things she likes to do, about things she used to do growing up, about her life – and realized I had never asked her that, never, sure we talked in passing after work because we had a story connected to a case, but we never simply talk about our lives out of curiosity or just for the pleasure of talking. For the first time we made a real connection, just because we wanted to.

When we prepare ourselves to sleep we don't talk much, and just zip our bags together before lying down. Though the efforts of today wore me out, I don't sleep much. The overwhelming feelings I've experienced today are still tingling in my veins. I felt alive and really… happy, I think that's the word that fit in this case.

However now that we are in the quietness of our tent, even if those feelings remains, my mind is now running on its own with its doubts and negativity, slowly spoiling everything.

I know that before I thought that I was conscious of the potential for a good relationship between Sara and I but after today, I know that I never had a full grasp of that potential. And I know, in the end, my temper is the only thing standing in the way of our relationship. Sara is much more in control of her emotions even when I push her to the edge, so I'm the reason everything is going awry.

"Sara?" I call her in a hushed tone.

"Hmmm?"

"Are you asleep?"

"Not anymore," she mumbles. She sighs in her half awaken state. "What is it?" she asks after a while when I don't speak.

"I… uh… I just wanted to say that I had a good day…"

"Me too…"

"I mean, not just the whole team work thing, the…"

"Talking, yeah… I know, me too."

She turns on her side and sighs slowly, as she's going back to sleep as fast as she came out of it. I don't want to let the opportunity go by, the darkness provides me enough strength to actually let things out. And I need, yearn even, to speak openly with her.

"Sara?" she simply moans this time to let me know she's awake again. "I…" I trail off. I lick my lips nervously and try again. "I'm… I'm sorry about the Greg thing…"

Sara's body slightly tenses; I can't see her but I know she has a little head movement in my direction. She moves a bit and then against all odds she lets out a deep, throaty chuckle. Her reaction doesn't just take me aback, it elicits a twinge of pain in my chest.

"Did I miss a joke? I'm trying to apologize here… and I don't really find it funny…"

She chuckles even more. "It's just…you got the art of timing down…I mean, only you can deem… 3 a.m., in the middle of nowhere and sore from a long day to be the perfect time to talk about stuff like that…"

Oh.

"Right… you're right," I chicken out. "It can wait, sorry. Goodnight."

"Cath… I was just teasing… it's ok…" she says with amusement.

"No, don't worry. Just go back to sleep."

"Cath… come on…" she reaches out behind her back and puts her hand of mine. I gasp at the warm contact, my heart swells and I find myself suddenly out of breath. She turns on her back to be more comfortable, not moving her hand. She gives my appendage a little squeeze and takes a deep breath. "Talk to me."

My voice escape me for a second or two, I'm too caught up in the sensation of having her hand over mine. "I…" I steel myself with a deep breath. "I should have never said what I said… and I'm sorry about it…" I start. "You were right… I have no right to ever judge you, regardless my personal opinion on the matter… my reaction and words were inappropriate and utterly wrong…" I apologize genuinely.

She just squeezes my hand after a moment.

"You were also right… about me making it hard… to be trusted… but today…today, I realized that I want you and I to share things because we want to… not because we feel trapped or forced… I know that… emotional trust won't come over night, but after today I know without any doubt, that you'll always have my back and I trust you to keep me safe as long as you can help it."

Sara turns on her side so we are facing one another, but the tent is too dark for us to see one another. She moves both of our hands in between us at our chin level.

I mean every word I've just said. It's hard for me to face my issues, to confide them, to feel vulnerable. It's just hard to express myself, period. But right here, in our tent – a temporary bubble that cuts us from the world; here, as we share this weird and awkward intimacy, I feel safe enough to do it, safe enough to talk to her even though it's only whispers.

"I thought you had given up…" I finally confess. "Those last weeks…"

Her fingers clasp my hand but not so hard it'd hurt me. "After all these years… after everything that has happened between us, we're still here and trying… you haven't given up… so why should I?" she utters with a soft tone.

"I just thought…" I choke on my words as emotions are threatening to overwhelm me.

"Hey…" she lets go of my hand, which sends me into more distress as I lose the warmth of her hand. But the feeling of safety comes back immediately when she cups my cheek in the dark. I close my eyes and will myself not to cry. "We've got each other's back," she simply says. I nod with a tiny movement. "We've got each other's back," she repeats after a few seconds, then her hands go back in the pit of mine, and I acknowledge for the first time the fragile and yet persistent sensation that from now on we will be okay.

When I wake up again barely three hours later, greeted by the sight of a sleeping Sara; a grin paints itself on my lips, I'm glad that she manages to rest a bit. After the day we've had I suppose even her body needed a break.

I enjoy the quietness of nature around us; the intimacy of our tent; the warmth of her hand – which never once let go of mine since the moment she has taken it even though she has moved; I steal this moment from her, conscious that when she wakes up we'll have to face reality again; I give myself into the blissful feeling of contentment, yes I'm contented, happy even; I'm happy that we've talked last night, happy that we have talked about ourselves yesterday, happy that we have shared something unique just to get stupid flags. I'm grateful toward Adam, even though I won't thank him just yet, I'm grateful for that scavenge hunt of his and this whole trip.

Sara lightly stirs, her sleepy sigh mingles with a low and soft moan; she turns on to her side, facing me again, giving my hand a little squeeze. Her lips move as if she was chewing something, then her nose scrunches up a bit. And right then, at this very childish vision of her, something flutters in me, like something was tugging at my chest level from inside; I let out a small gasp in surprise as my heartbeat increase as it dawns on me that I care about Sara way beyond the friendship boarders.

That thing that Julianne is cruelly lacking, Sara provides it, or maybe the problem is simply that Julianne isn't Sara. I know I first felt the way I'm feeling now when Sara came back from California, but I've refused to acknowledge it, to really admit that it was there.

I have feelings for Sara, feelings I don't dare to label, because the mere existence of those feelings is a problem. Funny how much she was right earlier when she said that I had the 'art of timing' down, only me could have a lucid moment when obviously things can't happen now. That day when she hurt me by calling what we have a 'fuck buddy' situation, that day I should have told her, I should have let her know that it was more complicated and deeper than just that. I've had fuck buddies, enough to know that what we had shared was more than that, it was the awkward beginning of something.

Now… now we are both otherwise engaged; now she belongs to another; but for this moment, while everything is still ours, mostly mine, I'll embrace those feelings pouring in my veins for her. Soon the world will swallow us again, plunging us back into reality; I'll have to smother those feelings, forever putting them to rest – or at least trying.

Silent tears pearl at the corner of my eyes as my heart is already grieving my feelings, I don't let them fall though, and smile a bit because for this precious moment, there's only her, only I, only us; for this precious moment, she belongs to my heart.

For this precious moment she makes me feel home.

* * *

**I'm well into chap 24 (Mojo is on the roll) so hopefully next week you'll get more.**

**Thanks for reading**


	24. Chapter 24

**Hi everyone, thank you for your reviews :). As promised I'm back with a new chap.**

**Enjoy,**

**So ;)**

**To **_Freddie_**  
**

**

* * *

Chapter 24**

I'm reading in my room when my phone finally rings. I didn't expect to be called at all during Catherine and Sara's trip, but I must say that I caught myself worrying about them more than once. "Hello?" I answer.

"_Adam… it's Catherine… I'm calling to tell you that I hate you and I'm going back to the city," _Catherine informs me sharply, anger evident in her voice. _"What in the world made you think that we wouldn't hurt each other in a damn forest, when you left us to our own devices?! Whatever it was you were wrong!"_

"Catherine, what happened? Where are you?" my voice is steady but I have a bad feeling about this.

"_In front of the centre but I'm going back home…"_

"Are you alone? Where is Sara?"

Funny because even though I saw the both of them being at their worst and nasty toward each other, I've always convinced myself that they would never get physically violent – at least not again since our first sessions. I was aware of the fact that they were giving each other the cold shoulder before that trip, so I thought a change of scenery would be good, that they could be forced into situation where trust was essential. Hearing Catherine now, however brings back my old worries on the surface.

"_In the forest last time I checked…"_

"You left her behind on her own?" I have a hard time to contain my disbelief. Maybe I went too fast, maybe they weren't as ready as I thought they were.

"_I'm not her freaking nanny! She deserved it… I'm done with her. Listen, I'm tired, I'm dirty, I'm sore and fucking pissed off, so I'm going back home."_

"Deserve what? What do you mean? Wait… don't go I'm coming to join you so you can explain everything," I demand firmly before hanging up. I exit my room in a hurry and run so fast my feet barely touch the ground as I climb down the stairs.

True to her words, Catherine is waiting for me a few metres away from the entrance, she does look as pissed off as she sounded over the phone. I walk up to her as fast as I can. I'm about to ask her if she's okay and to tell me what happened when I feel icy cold water damping me from head to toe, a low cry escape my lips.

Sara comes down from the branch of the tree on which she was waiting for the prank, a now empty bucket in the hand. It would seem that I walked, run even, right into an ambush.

"Smile Doc," Catherine laughs, making me revert my attention to her before taking several shots of me, petrified on my spot as the water is seeping through my clothes, stilling the moment into her digital camera. For the first time they've managed to take me aback, so much that I'm having a hard time to process what just happened.

"Oh yeah, the awesome twosome struck again!" Catherine whoops in joy, while Sara gives her a high five.

"Told you it'd worked," Sara giggles.

"Now, Doc, I must say you make an excellent fish out of the water," Catherine teases me, which only serves to double their laughter.

I don't say anything and just stomp back toward the centre with determination, I don't enter it, I walk aside to it, disappearing from their field of vision.

"Oh come on, Doc…" I hear Sara calling me back but the rest of her words is drown into her laughter.

_**Sara's POV**_

"Oh come on Doc, it was just a little prank!" I call Adam back, but he just keeps on walking away like his pants were on fire.

Catherine and I keep laughing and high-fiving each other.

"Look at his face!" Catherine exclaims as she shows me the pictures she's just taken of a wet and decomposed Adam.

"I think I'm going to frame them and put them in my office," I joke.

"Or better, in Adam's office."

"Oh great idea!"

Our three days excursion turned out to be healthy, not just physically healthy, but emotionally as well. It allowed Cath and I to have heart to heart discussions, to push further our limits. I've always liked that we can always seem to find a good balance when we team up. The first day was the toughest because we didn't talk much, but after putting our trust to test there was the proverbial click; and all the tension from the weeks before or our last 'argument' vanished immediately.

We've finally found the equilibrium in our relationship, we've made a breakthrough so to speak.

"Uh-oh, I think you've bruised his feelings. Maybe, you went too far," Catherine sobers up a little.

"What do you mean, _I _went too far? This was a common idea, if I recall."

"Hey, you're the one who just damped him with freezing water," she raises her hands in surrender.

"You're unbelievable!"

"My idea was to choke him with his flags," she defends herself.

"Oh yeah and that was better, right," I reply sarcastically, then finally catch a glimpse of the amused smile she's trying so hard to conceal. "Oh you little…" I advance toward her but she extends her arms so she can keep me away.

"Don't…don't do that," she pleas aware that I will tickle her, like I have done before we reached the centre. "Sara, come on we need to focus, we should go and find Adam to apologize."

I stop in mid motion. "You got a point… but I'll have my revenge later," I narrow my eyes at her. She sticks her tongue out and I mimic her, then we both walk after Adam.

_**Catherine's POV**_

"Adam!" I call him. "Adam, stop pouting, we were only joking," I giggle.

"You got to admit that his face was priceless," Sara says in almost a whisper before chortling.

"Hush… we're trying to apologize, remember?" I reprimand her but don't censor my own laughter.

"Right," she giggles even more.

We walk along the sidewall, looking around at the same time. "Adam…" I singsong. "Adam, come on, we were just kidding… no need to be all grouchy."

"Yeah, big guy, don't let the girls get you down," Sara adds.

I chuckle. "Sara!"

"What?" she plays coy.

"Just let me do the talking," I keep laughing along with her. "Adam… Adam…"

"Don't be a baby, it was only water!"

"Sara!" I reprimand her again.

"Okay, okay, you do the talking," she huffs with humour.

"Maybe he's really upset, you're not helping."

"Yeah, yeah… bad Sara."

I'm about to call Adam again, as we reach the corner of the building we don't see any trace of him.

"Where did he go?" Sara asks.

"I don't know… Ad… argh!" I shriek when pressurized cold water assaults me.

"Ah! Who's laughing now?" Adam queries with a triumphant grin.

Sara and I rush to the corner so we can hide. "You're okay?" Sara asks me slightly out of breath when we are both back against the wall.

I nod. "You?"

"Yeah," she looks around the corner at Adam. "He doesn't look that upset to me," she states and I just glare at her with a 'don't start' look. She looks at Adam again. "That's not fair, we had a bucket you have a hose!" she shouts.

"Come on… come and play with Adam…" he whines, we both glance at him and see that he's pouting amusedly.

"Drop the hose," I order.

"I won't splash you, you can come out," he tries to coax us.

"Right, like we're going to believe a shrink, drop the hose, we're even now," Sara backs me up and we both giggle.

"Aww, girls… you're afraid of the big guy with the water?" Adam teases us.

"Drop the hose and we'll come out," I repeat.

"There's no need to be afraid… trust me," he chuckles.

"Yeah, like that's going to happen," Sara snorts.

There's a minute of silence then the tip of the hose lands at our side, we both watch it, then Sara grabs it and we both count silently to three before coming out of our hiding place, ready to get Adam back. As soon as we are in the open a new wave of cold water is thrown at us before we can even react.

The hollow sound of plastic touching the ground resounds when Adam drops the bucket at his side. Sara tries to get the hose which she dropped down when we were splashed but she stops in mid motion when Adam makes a small snapping sound with his tongue to forbid her to move. This time he's aiming a fluorescent coloured water gun at us, a smug grin plastered over his face. Now I understand why he wasn't answering when we called him.

"… like I said, I'm still the master in command," he smirks. "The rules are that the first one to make another surrender wins, and it's every man for themselves," he smiles brightly. "You have ammunitions in the shed, I give you five minutes," he winks at us before disappearing around the corner of the building.

"I'm going to kill him," Sara mutters, soaking wet with freezing water.

"No, you're not," I reply. "_We_ are," I correct her. "Nobody messes with the awesome twosome," she snorts with amusement. "Besides he did say 'every man' for themselves," I add raising an eyebrow.

Sara and I look at each other, a knowing and wolfish grin spreading on our lips as we have the same idea.

Oh Adam's going down.

_**Sara's POV**_

My shrink is crazy.

Yes, Adam is crazy, one more reason to appreciate him. He's so 'out of the box', and for him it's a great quality; I've had shrinks before but none like him. Adam just manages to make you forget that he's a shrink and you're in therapy. His greatest quality is to show, from time to time that he is human, and to go with the flow of the moment. Even more, he'll always succeed to surprise you by his reactions, like right now.

We played a prank on him and it was hilarious, not only Adam walked, but he ran to his 'doom'. After spending three days in the forest and seeing what Adam put us through to get his flags we thought a little payback was in order. Now, we thought that he'd laugh at our antics, instead of what he dashed off without so much as a grin on his face.

Even though I was having fun with Cath, I'll admit that for a moment I was about worried that we had gone too far. My worried was literally washed away when Adam threw us cold water as a payback. From any other shrink I'd have expected anger, or passive ignorance, but once again Adam claimed his difference to any other shrink by sinking to our level. That's the thing with Adam, just when you think you know him he throws a new monkey wrench at you. And now if I've understood him properly, he has just declared the state of water battle.

Well, that's fine by me.

"Hey Sar," Catherine's voice takes me out of my contemplation. I join her in what I assume to be the shed. It's a small cabin behind the centre; just like the other cabin it's made of wood, but unlike the other there are only two big windows so it looks a bit darker. "He wasn't joking, there's a lot of ammo there, we're going to make him bite the dust."

Adam was right there are at least six other water guns, with big water tanks on top of each gun. Catherine and I grab a gun each and Cath starts to fill them, using the tap outside of the shed. I look around the shed and find deflated balloons in a bag, I grab a fistful of it before going out.

"There you go," Cath hands me one gun. "Ready?"

"Not yet," I look around to be sure we are alone. "I found us what to make water grenades," I grin.

"Nice," she smiles back but frowns. "How are we going to carry them around?"

"Right… I hadn't thought about that," I go back into the shed and search around.

_**Adam's POV**_

I'm leaning against a tree chuckling to myself. I'm crossing the forbidden line, the line that separates shrink and patients. I'm being friendly – genuinely friendly – with the both of them. I'm still able to distance myself from them, but I won't lie, I care about them. They are actually the first patients make it hard for me not to shed my shrink mask.

As a shrink I'm not supposed to have empathy for my patient, I'm not supposed to feel, period. That's the main risk with my job, if we do feel for our patients and their emotions, we lose ourselves, therefore become useless to them.

I clearly know that Catherine and Sara are my patients, nothing more, nothing less. Yet, on more than one occasion I let myself being my true self and not just their shrink. In my defence, they make it hard for me to resist playing along with them. Add to that the fact that I don't like being taken aback, well I had enough reason to start our new game. Besides, we are far from the city, so it is the best moment to let everything loose and have some fun.

I give them that, their prank was quite perfect, it stunned me into silence to say the least. I should have laughed and left it at that. But I decided to go along with the childish atmosphere to have my little payback. I'm enjoying myself that much is obvious, I enjoy being playful with them and I think it works both ways.

Should any one ask, I'll say that encouraging a water battle is an extension of the few days they've just spend in the wood. It's true, I'm pushing their sense of collaboration further. If anything, the mere fact that they pulled a prank on me together, indicates me that they have worked out their latest issue. They've carefully avoided the topic during our sessions lately, if they were having trouble communicating there's a least one thing on which they had agreed, it was that whatever their issue was it shouldn't be discussed, at least not in my presence…so I'm just encouraging them into developing the communication between them…

Yeah that's a lame excuse… I know.

I'm human and I want to act like a kid with them, sue me.

**Catherine's POV**

"Ready to go?" I ask Sara as we prepare our ammunitions. She found a little bag, one of us can carry it sling over her shoulders, we filled it with water grenades made out of the balloons Sara found. And we hid two water tanks for our guns just in case.

"Let's take him down," she pumps her water gun once to charge it.

We decide to go two different ways so we can spot Adam more easily.

As soon as I've made it to the other side a projectile comes to crash at my feet splattering water at my legs. I run for cover and only catch the glimpse of a shadow running through the trees. I hear another splash, look at my left and see Sara trying to run for cover as well, she's not as lucky as me because Adam manages to hit her; I move around but try as I might I can't find the origin of the attack.

Oh Adam's good.

**Sara's POV**

Adam's good. I think he's a terrific chess player. Hard to make the connection with our current water battle, but it's more logical than it seems. See, just like a great chess player anticipates and control his opponent's next moves, Adam's make us move according to his will – always being careful to keep us very far apart – and since he doesn't give us much choice we just keep falling under his attacks. Divided us to better reign upon us. Needless to say that Cath and I are being beaten – wet mostly, by Adam.

He's been wandering us around, yet we are both having a hard time to locate Adam, he's moving too fast. By the time Cath or I get to the origins of his last shot he has already moved to another place and is attacking each one of us again.

"When did Adam turn into a ninja?" Cath asks me a bit out of breath joining me behind a big tree. We are both covered with water and a little bit of mud from all our running and crawling for cover.

"You tell me…" I snort.

"We can't let him win…" she groans.

I agree with her, one I hate losing, and two, there is no way a shrink is ever going to have the upper hand with me, even if it's just for a game.

"I think he went to fill his gun again," she states.

"This is unfair, he as the advantage of the field, he knows this place, we don't."

"We need to work as a team," she propose.

We've played two against Adam, that was a given but so far we've been trying to make Adam surrender separately, and it obviously hasn't been working too well, or at all.

Cath giggles out of the blue, which attracts my attention. She's looking upward and keeps laughing softly to herself.

"Now, I know that look," I grin. "I'm all ears," I simply add. In all the years we've been working together I've learnt one thing, that particular look means that not only she had figured something out but she has an idea.

A wicked idea.

**Adam's POV**

I'm filling up my water tank and the last balloons I have in my pocket, I keep looking around just in case one of the girls decides to use my refilling break as an opportunity to get me. My heart is racing from all my running, climbing and jumping around, it's not the first battle of water I have on the centre ground but it is the first one where I get to use the whole potential of the environment.

I've been having fun so far, making them run everywhere, tricking them to better hit them with my projectiles. Now though, I'll have to aim for the kill, ammunition won't last for ever, and eventually the fun will wear off.

Ok, fine, I just want to win, period.

Once my gun is full and my water grenades ready I set myself after the girls. I decide that the first one I see will be the one to get me to victory. I don't have to search a lot, as I hear little screams, when I turn around the building I see Catherine shaking herself from the water she's just received and Sara running away.

Catherine it is then.

I ponder for a moment whether or not to climb up the trees again to keep up with my earlier strategy, but then decide to attack her at a close range, which implies staying on the ground. I move quickly to the trees and start to make my way closer to her without being seen, chasing the chaser. My heartbeat is strong but steady, and even though I'm still panting from earlier, I force myself to control my breathing so I won't get noticed.

One saying states that all the pleasure is in the chase. Obviously whoever said it first knew what they were talking about. There's a certain excitement coming from the anticipation of catching your prey; watching your prey unaware of the incoming danger makes you powerful because for that one moment you have the control; the control over your strike, over your prey's reaction, about its life and eventually surrender.

I move slowly in Catherine's shadow, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

"Sara…" Catherine singsongs trying coax Sara out of her hiding place. I hurry my steps swiftly so I'm now only a few metres away from her, I'm facing her side while she's looking in front of her. I squatter down to hide my position and reach my bag for a water grenade.

"Sara… come on… come play with me…"

I can't help the smile splitting my mouth as I raise my arm ready to strike. "Play time's over," I mutter excitedly to myself.

"So it seems," a voice full of satisfaction states from behind me, with a smooth and firm tone; freezing my motion.

No way.

"I'd drop that gently if I were you," I feel a chilly drop of water connect with the back of my neck. "Hey Cath, look what I got!" Sara says a bit louder.

When I look at Catherine again she's moving toward the both of us. She's smiling, like the Cheshire cat. I'm surrounded, I was so focused on Catherine I completely forgot about Sara and something tells me that I've been played.

Oh they're good…

"It was a trap wasn't it?" I hang my head down and shake it as I realize that all this time when I thought I was the hunter, I was in fact the hunted. I drop my water grenade and Catherine confiscates my last ammunitions and my gun. "You teamed up," I state more than ask while being ripped off my weapons.

"Your deduction skills have always been very acute Doc," Sara replies wittily.

"The rule was every man for themselves," I stress out not ready to admit my defeat.

"Well, since you are the only man, we did let you on your own; now you didn't say anything about the women, and the women have decided to stick together," Catherine reasons cheekily.

"Sneaky," I snort. "I should have known."

"Oh you want to talk about sneaky? How about we start by the convenient omission you made about the whole monkey bridges path connecting about all the trees around the centre in a hundred feet radius?" Sara comes back.

"Oh monkey boy has been naughty," Catherine adds with a giggle.

So my secret has been discovered. Alright, I didn't exactly play fair. Three or perhaps four years ago we have completed several monkey bridges to go from one tree to another around the centre, we used them as part of some exercises. I've been using this knowledge to my advantage during our current water battle, it allowed me to go to one point to another fast and always have a perfect vision of Catherine and Sara's location.

And well… I kind of forgot to tell them about the existence of the monkey bridges…kind of…

"So what do you _shrink_ Cath? What should we do with him?" Sara laughs at her witty pun.

"Depends, do you have something to say Adam?"

"No," I pout. "This sucks."

**Catherine's POV**

"Yeah, I know, I'd be moody too if my game had backfired at me," I tell Adam with a snort. He's looking like a little boy when he pouts like he does right now.

When Adam went to get more ammunition earlier, I finally understood how he did to move so fast without being seen. That sneaky boy used an intricate system of 'rope bridges' to move around, all the while leaving us struggling on the ground.

Once I understood his secret, an idea dawn on me. It was a big gamble but I managed to have Sara's trust. We both thought that Adam was most likely to head for the kill, considering the ammunition left and that we wouldn't fight till the end of time; now assuming this we thought that one of us would use the monkey bridges while the other would play the bait. Sara being used to climb up trees, she was given the task to shadow Adam and strike at the most opportune moment, while I was to pretend that I was after Sara all the while making sure – without being obvious of it – that Adam would keep following me on the ground level.

The moment I was sure to have all Adam's focus on me, I asked Sara to 'come play with me', which was our signal to enclose the trap on Adam.

Now we have a pouty shrink on his knees, fighting in vain to push back the moment he'll have to admit defeat.

"Come on, Adam, you know what you have to say," Sara encourages him.

"Bite me," he replies pettily. Both Sara and I discharge our guns on him which makes him shrink from the sprays – pun intended. "Argh… okay, okay, fine…" he puts his hands up to protect himself from the water.

"Go on, we're all ears," I smile goofily.

Adam sighs, still pouting like a kid. "I, Adam Stevenson, surrender to Catherine Willows and Sara Sidle…"

"The awesome twosome," Sara elaborates.

"What?" Adam looks at her.

"You surrender to the awesome twosome and acknowledge their infinite and everlasting superiority and power for they are the goddesses of the universe," she pushes the cap as far as she can in a childish way. We could have been in a children playground for all we know seeing how we are all acting. "You ran into our trap twice, so you got to give us some credit," she justifies herself with a chuckle.

"Yeah, right, you think you're all that, but…" Adam protests which only subjects him to another cold shower. He tries to avoid the spray but since Sara is behind him and I'm in front of him, he's vulnerable on every side and the more he squirms the wetter he gets. "Alright, alright…" he says, water spilling from his mouth.

He just huffs and Sara discharges her gun again. "Hey, I said alright!" Adam whines.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't hear," she giggles, indicating that she had heard him properly the first time.

"I, Adam Stevenson, surrender to the… 'Awesome Twosome'," he makes a funny voice which earns him and cold water spray on his back and he gasps before going on. "… and acknowledge their infinite and everlasting superiority and power for they are the goddesses of the universe…" he says in a childish mumble and though he's pouting, he can't completely conceal his amusement.

Sara and I both whoop with joy and high five each other. "We rock!" she exclaims.

"Totally," I reply. Adam shakes his head, still upset that he's lost.

"That game sucks."

"Aww, poor Adam," I pout mockingly and he sticks his tongue at me in response. "Come on, let's go inside and dry ourselves," I propose.

We help Adam up and start walking back to the centre. Adam walks behind us, he's whining about how soaked and dirty he is; how it is unfair, that we only won because we had teamed up and so on. I look at Sara who just smiles back at me. I couldn't explain how but I know for certain that we both think the same.

"Catherine, darling, do you know what I've learnt today?" Sara asks with fake awe.

"I don't know Sara dear, what?" I encourage her, and try at the same time to keep my laughter prisoner of my throat. We both pump our water guns to charge them, Adam is still caught up in his rant so he's oblivious of what is coming his way.

"Well, I've learnt that a good shrink is a wet shrink," as soon as the words leave her mouth we turn around and aim at Adam who stops dead in his tracks, his words die on his lips.

"Oh come on… okay fine, I lost because you're the best," he starts to take a step back.

"We know," I answer before Sara and I both finish our guns on Adam who starts running away, we run after him and decide not to waste our last water grenades.

"I'll get you both back!" he threatens with a laugh.

As the world around us disappears and the air is filled with our laughter and screams of amusement, I realize that I can't honestly remember the last time I've had that much fun; also, I couldn't be happier to share it with Sara and Adam.

**Sara's POV**

Perfection isn't of this world, but right at this moment as I'm playing like a child with Adam and Catherine, I know with absolute certainty that we got as close as it gets to the perfect moment; one of those ephemeral moments where everything is just spontaneous and right; one of those moments when the entire world gives you a break so you can taste a sweet and unadulterated blissfulness.

The simple fact that I can genuinely think, even if it's only for now, that I'm glad to be in therapy just because it gave me that moment; just the simple fact that I can make such a statement proves that we are indeed living one of those perfect moments.

And even though Catherine, Adam or I won't admit it out loud, I know that they feel the same. I'm glad we won't label the moment though, it'd spoil it; we all have conscience of the purity and preciousness of the instant and that's more than enough.

Happiness is a feeling to cherish and share, but truth to be told when it comes to happiness, like right now, words are unnecessary.

**Adam's POV**

The water ammunitions completely gone, we were having too much fun to stop playing so as a last resort we played a variation of tag involving tickling. Eventually we called for a truce and lied down for a bit – still laughing and trying to catch our breaths – then we all retreated to our respective quarters to have a shower and change.

After that I gave them some time to have their lunch, I could have joined them but I didn't so we could re-establish the shrink/patient boundaries, in spite the good mood and the childish atmosphere of our morning.

Now, I've decided that tomorrow I'll give them the day for themselves so today will be the last exercise of the trip. We walk through the forest they tell me about the difficulties they encounter while trying to get the flags, then the rest of the way they mostly to talk to each other.

We arrive on the edge of a cliff.

"There we are," I declare. "Don't worry I'm not going to throw you over it."

"Oh, but we know _we_ don't have to be worried," Sara comes back which makes me snort with amusement.

"As I said earlier this will be the last exercise," I continue. "I want you to scream at the tope of your lungs."

They exchange a glance and then look at me. "That's it?" Sara asks sceptically.

"Surprisingly, yes."

**Catherine's POV**

"What's the catch?" I ship in.

"There's none," Adam affirms us. "Whenever you feel ready, scream at the top of your lungs," he instructs us again before moving aside so we are facing the landscape.

I look at Sara who is just as puzzled as I am. She shrugs and takes a deep breath, she does shout, but if it's loud it's not exactly at the top of her lungs. I try but my scream is even less powerful than Sara's.

"Harder than it seems, isn't it?" Adam states, giving a voice to my thoughts.

Sara tries again but the results the same; I don't need another try to know that something is stuck in me, like the sight of the void was somehow petrifying me. I don't get it though, I remember screaming like this when I was a kid, but now… now it's like I was scared to do it.

"Alright, let's approach this from a different point," Adam says after a moment. "You just need a little incentive. Think negative feelings you might have felt lately, frustration, anger or else let it build up and…"

I shout like my life was depending on it, drowning Adam's words in the process. I feel like a fire was coursing through my veins burning me all the way up to my chest; erupting out into a loud sound. I can feel my scream shaking my whole body.

Adam was right – yet again, I just needed a little incentive. My trigger?

Greg.

His name alone was the needed sparkle to make me implode with anger, frustration, jealousy, disgust…

Sara and Adam are both looking at me, certainly surprised by my sudden and unexpected cry.

"…just let it all out," Adam finishes after a few second. "That's very good Catherine."

The first scream out makes me want to scream more, so I just let go again.

**Sara's POV**

I chuckle as Catherine is screaming her lungs out. I don't know what her triggering feeling was, but it's effective to say the least. Catherine's face takes a shade of dark pink when she shouts. Her cry echoes in the air when it ricochets against the asperities of the landscape.

"Sara?" Adam calls me when I don't make any sign that I'm going to scream again.

"It's a bit difficult, I always try to let my anger out when I feel it," I shrug.

It's true, when I feel anger violent enough for me to want to scream I have to let it out, generally it means hurting myself in some way, but I do let go for fear of harming people around me if I don't.

"There is no buried anger you can think about?"

"None, that we haven't already let out in previous sessions," I reply after a moment.

"Really?" Catherine steps in. "You mean, you're no angry any more about losing that promotion to Nick, when at the time you deserved it more than him?" she brings that topic back on the table out of nowhere.

"I think I've come to terms with that," I tell her even though I feel a tingle inside thinking about it.

"You're really not angry at the fact that the only reason you didn't get it was because people were saying that you had an affair with Griss, and that Griss gave into that pressure rather than stepping up?" Catherine goes on taunting me. "Because I've seen the files and I'm not the only one to know that at the time, you were the most qualified for that promotion. You had more experience, better stats, and a better file than Nick did, yet Griss…"

I never knew my voice could break so loudly. When I'm finally done I'm panting, it feels like the first time oxygen was feeling my lungs.

I guess the bitter pill was still stuck somewhere in my throat.

"It feels good, doesn't it?" Catherine asks with a knowing grin.

"Yeah," I breathe out with surprise. "It's… uh… liberating…"

"I know, right?" Cath and I smile at one another.

**Adam's POV**

Catherine and Sara are just giving into the new found excitement. They scream several times before remembering my presence.

"What now?" Sara asks with enthusiasm her voice slightly hoarse.

"Now that you've screamed your anger and frustration, I want you to think about opposite feelings, good feelings and let it all out again."

"Oh I got one," Sara replies almost immediately. "THE AWESOME TWOSOME ROCKS!" she shouts in one long breath.

"HELL YEAH!" Catherine mimics her.

I can't help the chuckle escaping my throat as they find new adjectives to tag their team with. They are both smiling and obviously enjoying the exercise. They finally both sigh with satisfaction, they keep breathing in and out deeply, just taking everything in with closed eyes, claiming the moment. Catherine looks at me and she must have sensed the question hanging on my lips or maybe she's just used to therapy enough to know what's coming.

"I FEEL ALIVE," she lets out abruptly with a gut wrenching intensity so powerful that I can actually feel her voice resonating through my body. I can only imagine that Sara feels the same as me, and maybe it's what triggers her response just equally powerful as she echoes Catherine's words.

"I AM ALIVE" they both scream in unison, with the energy of desperation, as if they would die on the spot if their screams weren't as intense. I know it sounds odd considering that they must feel complete right at this moment, but I can feel – and I have no doubt that they feel it too – that this last cry comes from their deeper and most primal instinct; it's a scream that tear their guts with violence to ultimately enhance their feeling of being alive.

When their voices wear off they look lost and drained, disoriented even, probably feeling everything tenfold and surprised at the blunt yet delicate intimacy of what they've just shared. I decide to leave them alone and start heading back to the centre, knowing that they need time for themselves at the moment.

"Adam," Sara calls me back softly.

When I turn around and look at them, they seem vulnerable as if they were naked. Catherine offers her back to me once again, not quite ready to face me while Sara looks away but eventually she holds my gaze for a moment before nodding in my direction a fragile smile gracing on her lips.

I nod back hearing her silence thank you loud and clear, and then I walk away.

* * *

**I hope the switching between everyone's POV wasn't too confusing, I wanted to make a different and have a little fun.**

**Alrighty, I'll try to come back soon with more. **

**Thanks for reading.  
**


	25. Chapter 25

**Hi everybody, first of, thank you for the reviews. Here's some more**.** Just a friendly reminder, this is Sara's POV with all that it implies (for the sensitive souls out there :P yeah I mean you **_freddie_**... jk )**

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**So ;)**

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**Chapter 25**

_Sara's POV_

"How is it going between Greg and you?"

The question surprises me so much I choke a bit on my milk. I quickly grab a napkin to prevent any misfortunate spilling. "Sorry," I cough a bit and get my breathing under control again. "You're okay?"

"Shouldn't I be the one to ask you that?" Catherine replies with a grin before putting another bite of her breakfast in her mouth.

"It's just… I'm a bit taken aback, you've made it clear that you weren't comfortable with that particular topic."

"Sar," she sighs. "That was three months ago, I've come to terms with that."

"It doesn't mean we have to talk about it."

"You don't want to talk about it," she states.

"No, I don't mind, I just… don't feel like you had to suffer it if it still bothers you, that's what I mean."

During our trip away with Adam, we've decided to create some kind of routine between us, a regular ritual that is exclusively ours; a ritual that – of course – wasn't therapy. So we've agreed that Thursday would be our day, we have breakfast after shift, or lunch, or even diner and a movie if we manage to be both off work.

It's been going on for the past three months and so far we've managed to keep up with it. There have been little misses but we always made up for it later on the same day, the main idea being to spend exclusive time together and only together.

I couldn't explain what made things change considering that we've shared so much during our time away with Adam, but something changed and now Catherine and I are talking more openly. Slowly but surely a certain easiness is being established between us. We still have disagreement and fights but the difference now is that once we cool off we immediately address the issue and try to understand where the other is coming from.

We've been talking about a lot of things, yes, but 'Greg and I' topic was off limits, or so I thought. It is the first time in three months and since our argument when she found out about the two of us that she brushes the topic.

"Well… things have been good," I reply with a shy smile as I think about my couple – okay this word is still really weird, even in my own head.

"For the record…" Cath starts but trails off, probably trying to find the best way to formulate what she wants to say. "It was really weird to conceive the two of you together. I mean, you've always given off the brother/sister vibe, so much that after all this time… I guess I came to believe that you two were indeed related. So yeah… it was hard to conceal that perception with the two of you being… together."

I chortle. "I know what you mean. Greg and I were both surprised at the turn of events," I tell her honestly. "Sometimes I still have a hard time believing that this is happening to us. But it is, and it works, so I stop asking myself questions and just enjoy the ride," I shrug with a smile.

"Glad to hear it," Cath replies with a barely there grin.

"How is it going between Julianne and you?"

She sighs tiredly. "I wish I could say that things are as good as for Greg and you, but it's not the case. I guess you could say that we are in a rocky period. Sometimes everything is going smoothly and at other times it feels as if we were constantly arguing," she looks away.

"We've been dating for almost six months now, I know at the moment I see mostly the flaws of our relationship, but truth to be told things are good. I know that there are times like that when everything seems like a struggle, but I care about her and I think the struggle is worth it," she adds. "Besides you know how easy I am to put up with," she jokes which makes me chuckle.

"Please note that I didn't say anything," I point out.

"That's exactly the problem Sar, you should be telling me that 'no, I'm not such a pain in the ass'. So much for the support," she pouts.

We both laugh at her childish behaviour, and then move on to other topics.

xxxxx

"Do you think it's too much?" Greg asks me from the bedroom. I come back and lean against the doorframe.

"What? The clothes or the tie? Cause you know you're always overdressed as far as I'm concerned," I wink at him suggestively.

He rolls his eyes and chortles while shaking his head slightly. "Smartass, I meant the tie," he replies then returns his attention to his reflection and start to toy with his tie. He turns to me again, I study his attire for a moment before making my mind up.

"Nay, lose the tie," I crunch my nose quickly and shake my head.

"Sure?"

"Yup," I smile at him before going back into the living room.

I sit on the couch and start putting my shoes on. Greg and I are going out with Hazy, and though he met her on more than one occasion he's still a bit anxious for tonight.

Our relationship, I must say, has been a pretty smooth ride so far. Well truth to be told nothing changed that much between us, except that now we are physically intimate. I don't like to say it, for fear of jinxing it, but I'm happy with our relationship. We don't live together, but it's true that most of the time we're sharing each other's apartments. At first I was always worried about the friendship we've built during all these years; but really, nothing changed on that level, if anything we're getting closer.

The best thing about our relationship? I'd say that we are always having a good laugh.

"You're ready?" I hear him ask me as he comes into the living room. He puts his hands on my shoulders and lightly kneads them.

"Yup," I lift my head up and we exchange a brief upside down kiss.

"Let's go then," he says. We both grab our respective jackets and head to the door. "You're driving or I am?"

"Hum… I'll drive on the way back if you don't mind."

"Fine by me," he opens the door ajar but then stops in motion.

"What is it?"

He leans and kisses me softly on the cheek. "I like your outfit," he simply says before holding the door open for me.

Oh that's right. There's another good thing, his ability to make me beam and my heart flutter with the simplest gestures or words.

xxxxx

"I don't know, I felt like they butchered the book with their movie adaptation," Hazy shrugs.

"Yeah, me too, I mean there were a lot of important details missing and they made additions that not only didn't make any sense but all the more were completely incoherent," I back up my sister.

"Well, I enjoyed the movie, it was entertaining, but I hadn't read the book prior to see it," Greg shrugs.

We went to see a movie earlier, and then Hazy decided to go to a club. The club is really good, the walls are painted with warm colours, it's quite spacious so that it doesn't feel crowded even though there is a lot of people, the tables, couches and chair, just like the bar are far enough from the dance floor so as to allow conversations without yelling.

"That's the thing though. When they make a movie that is supposed to be the adaptation of a book or animation show or comic book, then they can't really take liberties," Hazy goes on.

"It depends. Some books give possibilities of interpretation others don't," Greg interjects. "The most liberty they have is for comic books adaptations."

"Freedom for the plot yes, but the characters are pretty much already built on paper. Example, the one with the mutants, the first movie was good, the second even better, but the third one was a catastrophe and anyone who was a fan of the comic book – me included – will tell you that much; I wanted to take my eyeballs out every new minute so much it was bad and I was pissed at the way they butchered my heroes."

Laughter erupts from Greg and Hazy at my rant.

"It's all about the trilogy movie theory," Greg states.

"Yeah, you're supposed to be beginning slowly, then go crescendo before going out with a bang. Now, it seldom happens, most of the time you have one out of three that is bad. It's okay if it's the first one because then they have two more shots to get it going. Now when it's the third one that sucks… it kind of ruins the others," Hazy adds.

"Exactly, not to mention the case when every of the three sucks. A hint: lightsabers."

"Wow, hold on," I raise a hand and have a small recoil movement. "Your next statement might be a game-stopper between us," I warn him with amusement. "So speak up but trade carefully, old or new?"

"Oh no, the old trilogy is a classic, a cult even, I'm not touching it," he replies immediately. "The new one? One word: disaster."

"Good boy," I agree.

Greg pretends to wipe sweat from his forehead and we all laugh again.

"Wait, I'll be right back, I think I saw someone I know," Hazy announces before standing up and walking away, while Greg and I keep talking.

"Hey, look who's here."

Greg and I both turn our heads toward Hazy who just got back, a smile breaks on my face. Catherine and Julianne are now standing next to our table, both dressed to the nines.

"Cath! Hey," I stand and hug her. I extend my hand to Julianne, who takes it back. "Hi, Julianne. How are you?"

"Good thanks," she smiles back at me.

"Greg, this is Julianne. Julianne, Greg," I introduce them. "You two want to join us for a drink?" I ask Cath and Julianne.

"Maybe later, we're joining some friends for a birthday," Julianne declines.

"There you are," Nancy, appears behind them, then looks in my direction. "Sara! It's been long," she comes around her sister and hugs me. "You guys go ahead, we're over there, I'll join you in five," she directs Catherine and Julianne.

"See you guys later," Cath grins before waking away with her girlfriend.

Nancy greets Greg with an equally enthusiastic hug, then I introduce her to Hazy.

"Hey, buzz, we're going to hit the dance floor," Hazy announces, all but dragging Greg with her. She doesn't ask him if he's fine with this plan, but I guess by the fact that he didn't resist means that he doesn't object.

"I'm going to catch up with Nance, then I'll find you."

"Cool, nice meeting you Nancy," Hazy smiles before disappearing in the crowd.

Nancy and I get up to date with one another quickly. Sometimes I think that if Cath and I had started on the right foot, our relationship would be like the one I have with Nancy; well maybe not, but something along those lines. I must say that Nancy and I have started to be closer to each other ever since I've been interacting regularly with Lindsey, but before that, our contacts were more sporadic.

Since we're both here with different people we don't expend ourselves too much, but we promise each to call each other next week to schedule a lunch or dinner together so we can talk properly.

I drain my glass and make my away over Greg and Hazy who are dancing, and having fun by the look of it. I immediately join them and start moving my body along with the rhythm. Greg makes spin around Hazy and I, dancing with the both of us alternatively.

After a song or two, Greg looks at me with a teasing glint in his eyes; then it's like he had received and electric choc as he starts adding extra enthusiasm in his moves, like he had been holding back until my arrival. He's literally 'parading' for me, showing me what he's got up his sleeves, making sure never to lose my attention; his moves are precise and swift, he keeps on moving with a confident swagger and goes as far as doing a man split before getting up again in the same momentum, then makes an impressive spin before gliding closer to me. The dance becomes instantly more sensual as he makes my body move along with his.

I never had anyone dancing for me before Greg, and I must say that it was just another thing that made me feel special. Now that we are dancing together, it's like he was teasing me, and I tease him right back. I've never been a big fan of moving my body, mostly because I suck at it, but I find myself having fun with Greg.

The music slows down considerably, I untangle myself from Greg who was holding me from behind, and start walking away but Greg holds my hand and prevents me from going back to our table. He brings me closer to him, circles my waist with his right arm, holds my right hand with his left and starts to sway us gently.

"Greg, my TLFS is really acute when it comes to slow dancing," I tell him.

"Your what?"

"My TLFS," I repeat. "Two Left Foot Syndrome?" I elaborate and he laughs softly.

"I take my chances."

"Alright, but don't come complaining when you can't feel your toes anymore."

I try my best to let Greg lead. It's awkward and I step on his toes at least five times. He doesn't say anything just purses his lips, trying hard to conceal the laugh I know is lodged in his throat.

"I'm terrible…" I drop my forehead against his shoulder.

"Meh…" he shrugs with amusement.

I hold my head up again and look at him. "I would have never guessed that you were so light on your feet," I say with a pout of amazement.

"Anton taught me how to move, advising me to learn and perfect as many different styles as I could, but never to take that particular card out of my sleeves unless it's for a special occasion."

I nod. I have yet to meet his family, but his older brothers – Anton, Gabriel and Jasper– and his little sister Dana have taken lives through several memories Greg shared with me.

"And this qualifies as a special occasion?" I raise an eyebrow.

He smothers another laugh as I step yet again on his toes. "It doesn't, but I'm with a special girl."

I snort. "Sweet talker."

He frowns. "I was talking about Hazy," he replies cheekily trying but failing to conceal his smile.

I chuckle dryly. I take my hand off his shoulder and put a finger next to my ear, listening to an imaginary earpiece. "Oh, well Mr Sanders, I've just been informed that you've won our special prize tonight, a one way ticket to 'Couch Town', would you like to compete for our grand prize? An amazing and long travel to 'Lonely City'?" I come back.

Greg feigns being hurt, then laughs softly and I pout in response. He brings me closer to him and leans in so his mouth his close to my right ear. "You're the first I've ever danced for," he whispers then looks at me seriously.

We look at each other intently, the moment suddenly too intimate for the circumstances. I chortle "Smooth, really smooth, but you're still sleeping on the couch tonight," I stick my tongue out at him.

"Damn!" he curses jokingly before both our laughs mingle with the music.

We keep swaying to the music – or shall I say Greg sways us with a fluid motion. Our bodies are now close to one another, so his chuckle vibrates through my chest as well. I look at him puzzled, not understanding what is at the origin of his amusement. He spins us until our position are reversed.

"I think Hazy is making smoke signals at our intention," he states.

I look up and effectively Hazy is apparently being bothered by a too engaging dancer who's currently invading her personal space. Hazy glances in our direction every two seconds, silently requesting back up.

"Oh, second damsel in distress. Catherine looks like she's bored out of her skull," Greg adds before spinning us again so I can see what he means.

I lean back and look at him. "Alright, you get Hazy, and I get Cath, let's meet at our table in five."

"Roger that," he winks at me.

We disengage ourselves just moment before the song comes to an end, we then walk in opposite directions. I slow down when I'm near Catherine's table. There's a group of about twenty people all chatting quite animatedly, but Cath seems to stick as the sore thumb, I can only guess that she doesn't know many of those people.

I try to walk as confidently as I can and go straight to Cath, lean in to whisper in her ear. "Can I offer you a temporary getaway?" I see her giggling more than I hear her. She turns to Julianne and I suppose that she excuses herself because a moment later she's standing next to me. We walk side by side to my table which is still empty. I throw a glance on the dance floor just to be sure everything's okay, and see Greg and Hazy dancing together.

"Can I get you anything?"

"Gin tonic, please," Catherine replies before sitting on the couch surrounding the table. I simply nod and make my way to the bar. Lucky me the bartenders recognize me so I'm served almost immediately, I guess it pays to have share a few jokes with them when we first arrive.

"There you go," I give Catherine her glass and sit next to her. "Boy, I hadn't seen you have that much fun since time you were overloaded with paperwork.

Her face lightens up immediately and a soft laughter bubbles out of her throat. She drinks a sip of her beverage. "They are nice people, fun even…they are," she swats my shoulder gently when I make a doubtful face. "Their company is really enjoyable, it's just that I don't know them that much, they are more Nancy and Julianne's friends. And I can't exactly tell funny stories from work either or they might all throw up their dinner."

We chuckle in agreement. "You on the other hand look like you're having a good time," she continues.

"I am, those two are really funny."

We tell each other the tale of our respective nights, then drift toward other topics. Greg and Hazy eventually join us and I can see the confident and relaxed Cath I know coming back from her hiding place.

"You want to dance?" I ask Cath when Hazy and Greg get caught up into a debate.

"Oh good heavens, no. I'm a terrible dancer," she declares.

"You're pulling my leg right?" I chortle once I overcome my shock. I must say that it's not something I thought I'd ever hear her say.

"No, I'm serious, I'm terrible," she repeats. "Don't look so surprised."

"Well, you used to be a dancer."

"Exotic dancer," she corrects me. "There's a difference between shaking yourself sensually and dancing, trust me," she snorts with raised eyebrows. "Besides, except for special 'numbers' I was doing more or less the same all the time, so much that I think my body was moving on its own after a while."

"Wow…"

"What? I'm just telling the truth," she shrugs. "Now I can keep the rhythm but it's not really much. I'm a good partner though, if you lead the way I can follow easily and adapt," she shrugs.

"I'm having a hard time to believe you can't dance."

"I didn't say that I couldn't dance, just that I'm terrible at it, that's different. I took ballet classes up until I was 15, that's unfortunately not a very useful knowledge in a club, but it helps to feel the tempo."

"Let's dance anyway," I propose.

"Sar…"

"I'm not that good either, who cares?"

We lock eyes and I can see that she's hesitating, maybe her dancing skills are really holding her back. She bites her bottom lip and shakes her head.

"Nah, sorry. Maybe another time when we're not on public," she declines before looking away. "Besides, I think I should go back to my table, my absence is just about to become impolite," she sighs.

"Yeah," I agree even though I'm disappointed to see her leave already.

"Thanks for the breather though, I needed it," she kisses my cheek and then stands up.

"No problem," I smile at her.

"I'll see you guys another time," she salutes us all before walking away. She kisses Julianne when she arrives, an intimate way to apologize I suppose; and though she's grinning as she's clued in the conversation once more, it's obvious – at least to me, that she's not as at ease as she's making it appear.

She glances at me and I wink at her with a smile which she returns genuinely. I focus on Greg and Hazy again who inform me that they want to dance a bit more but after that they'd like to move somewhere quieter, like a bar and maybe play pool.

And that's exactly what we do.

xxxxx

I sitting on the wide and thick wood ledge of Greg's living room window; I like that his apartment is in the heights, it gives a really nice view of the city. I enjoy the view when my nights are restless, plagued with nightmares, like tonight.

I hear Greg coming from behind me, I automatically push myself forward knowing that in two minutes he'll sit behind me and wraps his arms around me; when he's in place, I just lean against his chest and let my head rest in the crook of his neck.

This is our little routine; of all my lovers he's the only one to wake up when I do, he never says anything unless I speak; he just holds me there between his legs; arms entangled; lazy caresses of fingers on each other's skin; his chest soothingly rising a falling against my back. He kisses the crown of my head when he arrives and then contemplates the city with me. Sometimes we both fall asleep again, on others he's the only one dozing off. He comforts me, and though we never discuss this habit of ours I think that my presence comforts him too and that is why he always comes after me.

He never asks anything about my bad dreams, certainly waiting for me to talk if I ever feel like it. I don't though, I like not to think about my nightmares as much as possible when I can. I am slowly but surely becoming an addict to this moment which is maturing into something that is ours, and ours only.

I run my fingers against his shin in a lethargic movement. "Greg?" I call him with a voice merely above the whisper.

"Mmhmm?" his mumble reverberate against my spine. That response indicates me that he was dozing off, but he never seems to mind when I wake him up. I'm still surprise at how low his voice tone is when it's a bit thick with sleep or when he simply speaks in hush tones.

"Do you have a middle name?" I ask out of the blue.

"I have… middle names," he corrects me, going along my train of thoughts without questioning its origins.

"Jack?"

He chuckles and it sends a tingle from my spine to the pit of my stomach. "Nope."

"William?"

"No."

"Hum…Dylan?"

"No."

"Marty?"

I keep it up but always end up with the same answer. He delivers a butterfly kiss in the crook of my neck. "Don't take it wrong, but I don't think you'll ever be anywhere near guessing them."

"Really?"

"Yeah," though my back is against him I know he's grinning. "We should do this properly though. I have quite a big family, and there are a lot of traditions. One of them is that each child has three names, a chosen one, then the name of one ancestor on the mother's side and one on the father's side," he explains and I nod still looking outside.

"First you should know that Greg is short for Gregorus."

"Gregorus?"

"Yep, I told you, I'm from a Scandinavian descent, well more accurately from Norway for the most part, but I have Swedish and Danish blood somewhere."

"Okay, so what are your other names?"

"Siegfried and Gunter. Gregorus, Siegfried, Gunter Sanders," his voice takes a sudden accent when he speaks. I've heard him speaking Norwegian on different occasions mostly when he speaks to his family, or sometimes when he curses and rants to himself.

"Siegfried, Gunter…" I repeat. "What about Anton?"

"Magnus, Crispin."

"Gabriel?"

"Rayner, Bjørge, you know, with the slashed 'o'."

"Jasper?"

"Roderik, Sven, and Dana, Aileen, Magdalena."

"Strong names, I like that," I'll never admit it out loud but behind my curiosity about he and his sibling's name there's also the guilty pleasure to hear his voice laced with a thick European accent, even if it's just for mere seconds.

"I'm proud of my names," he chuckles softly and squeezes me a bit. "What about you? Got any middle name?"

I grunt. "Now I wish I never engaged myself down that road," I mumble with a pout.

"It can't be that bad."

"Oh trust me it can."

He laughs. "Okay, just tell me if I can find it on my own."

This time I laugh. "No… I mean to this day I'm still trying to figure out how my parents came up with it."

"Really?"

"Yeah… well I know the principle according to which they chose, but still…"

"So explain it to me," he says after a while, then when I stay silent he tickles me.

"Okay, okay," I stop trying to wiggle myself out of his embrace, entwine the fingers of both of our hands and place them around my waist so I'm sure he won't start again. "I was born the same day as my great, great, grandmother, so I've been named after her. Not only that though, my parents had this thing about nature and cosmos, or whatever… I guess you could say that they were spiritual in their own way. And since I was born on a full moon night…" I trail off.

"Well?"

I bite my bottom lip to keep my middle name in the prison of my throat. My first attempt to reveal my middle name is an incoherent mumble.

"What was that?"

I sigh. "Lilymoon," I whisper. "Sara Lilymoon Sidle," I confess with a deflated tone. "Go on and laugh, the joke's on me… literally."

I've never been a big fan of my middle name – alright I hate it, I find it horrible – for the simple reason that I've always had the feeling that my parents were trying to have a good laugh… at my expense. I mean, who could name a child that way? I don't find it cute or anything, I do get the story behind it, but it makes me think that my parents were most likely stoned when they came up with it. When I think about my childhood I had more reasons to believe that they did it to be mean than anything else. What's more, when I consider my brothers or Hazy's middle names, next to theirs mine is the only weird one. Lucky me it's my middle name or life might have been even tougher at school.

"It's in one word or two?" Greg calls my attention back. I expected him to laugh like anyone who's ever found out did – not that they are numerous, I mean except my siblings, there's only a handful of people who know my two name, mostly for administrative reasons.

"One."

"I love it," he declares after a long pause.

"Yeah, right, it's horrible and ridiculous," I reject his appreciation.

"Lilymoon," he repeats. "Lilymoon…" he pauses. "Lilymoon…"

"Come on, stop it, it's not funny," I whine a bit.

"Lilymoon…"

"Greg," I sigh.

"Lilymoon…Lilymoon…" he keeps on as if he hadn't heard me.

I'm really irritated by his attitude and start to disentangle myself from him but he closes his arms around me to keep me in place, all the while repeating my middle name. It takes me a second to realize that there's no laughter in his voice. It's more like he was trying to imprint himself with it, memorize the way it delicately rolls off his tongue. I stop debating myself, as the name which has always had such a wrong and alien ring to my ears slowly turns into an odd yet soft caress.

"Lilymoon…" Greg's low voice whispers so close to my ear that his breath is brushing my skin. "Lilymoon…" his voice is even fainter, he strengthens his embrace and I don't help leaning against him to be even closer him.

He keeps repeating my name like a soft echo, unknowingly shaking me to the core, I tighten my grip on his arms, silently asking him not to let go. Why am I so emotional about this? I don't know, there's just something in the way he says my name that just touches me on a deeper level.

"_My_ Lilymoon," his lips draws my name against my skin in a sizzling breath. I close my eyes and try to control my breathing at the unexpected sensation of vertigo gripping me. My heart is racing its way out of my chest, I'm heaving yet the oxygen in my lungs never is enough.

I shift my position and capture Greg's lips in a bruising skin, the unexplainable need to feel him under my skin overwhelming me. I merely break the kiss long enough so I can face him and let my desire loose.

* * *

**I know some of you are trying to control your gag reflexes (come on it wasn't that bad, was it?), but hey, I warned you.**

** I shall be back with more it a little while.**

**Thanks for reading.  
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	26. Chapter 26

**Hi everyone, thanks for the reviews. Here's the new chap.**

**Enjoy,**

**So ;)  
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Chapter 26**

_Catherine's POV_

"What is it?" Lindsey asks no tearing her eyes off her notes. When I don't speak she looks at me expectantly.

"What do you mean?"

She tilts her head and chuckles. "Mom, you have your whole 'I'd like us to talk about something but don't know how to broach the subject' routine going on."

"I got a routine for that?" I raise my eyebrows.

"Yes you do Mom, but that's not the point. So go ahead and let's talk about whatever's bothering you."

"It's not really a bother… it's a concern… not, just curiosity…"

"Mom."

"Right… sorry," I grin apologetically. "Do you have any problem with Julianne?"

"No, why?"

"I don't know… you don't spend a lot of time with her. You either barricade yourself in your room, go to Nancy's or Sara's when she's around… so I was wondering if there was something bothering you regarding to Julianne. Because you know if her presence bothers you in some way, we can work around that, you're my priority and main concern."

"I know. I don't have any problem with her. She's… okay… it's just…" she shrugs and trails off.

"What?"

"Well, don't take it the wrong way, but…" she sighs. "I want you to be happy but I don't really get the 'I'll stick around' vibes from her. I hope I'm wrong, but until she lasts a certain amount of time, I don't really feel like putting energy into any kind of bounding with her."

"Wow… wait a second, rewind a bit, the 'I'll stick around' vibe?"

"Mom…" she sighs. "I don't think she's the one for you, that all," she shrugs.

"Why?"

"I don't know Mom…look, like I said I hope I'm wrong," she gathers her books and notes then retreats in her room.

"Wait… well…"

What the hell?

xxxxx

"She said that?" Sara asks me before taking a sip of her drink.

"Yeah, point blank," I confirm as I relate to Sara what Linds told me about Julianne.

"That works you up, doesn't it?" she states after a while.

We're having dinner in our usual spot, the thought that we indeed have an usual spot. We used to have our exclusive time once week but ever since last month we've decided to make it twice a week and I like that.

"It does on some level. She's my daughter and if she doesn't get along with Julianne then I'll have to reconsider my relationship. But at the same time I know where she's coming from with that reasoning. I've been dating since Eddie and I separated, but there were only three people with whom it was serious. Each time she made effort and yet my relationships didn't last, so I understand why she doesn't want to get involve too soon."

I frankly don't know if I'm comforting myself or trying to convince myself that Lindsey's just jaded to have to deal with my dates, which is normal and understandable. Plus, add to that the fact that she's a teenager now, I completely understand her point of view.

"You think she's right?" I ask Sara while pushing the food in my plate. "You think, Julianne's not the one for me?"

"Cath… I'm going to tell you honestly that I'm not a believer when it comes to love and all that. Nowadays, love is a business and the whole 'the one' thing? It's a myth enhance by culture, it's the new adult entertainment or just a way to convince you that the grass is greener elsewhere. I don't believe in soul mate and I refuse to believe that there's only one person out there for me. I believe that you got to appreciate what you got and cherish it; and if it doesn't last a lifetime, then that's no big deal but it doesn't mean that it wasn't meant to be from the start. I think people spend so much time looking for that 'one' that they miss out on what they have."

"Do you have any idea of how depressing and cynical you sound?" I chuckle.

"I'm sorry, that's the way I see it. I don't think you can know right away if someone's good for you on the long run because from my experience relationships are constant works in progress," she declares. "From what I see, you care a lot about Julianne and she cares a lot about you too, there are worst things in the world than this to me," she shrugs.

"So your point is that I shouldn't worry so much?"

"Yes. And if your relationship with Julianne doesn't work, then end it and move on."

"You make it sound simple," I snort.

"It's not whenever feelings are involved, but it should be."

"Okay, change of topic. I was thinking about throwing a party soon."

"On what occasion?"

"None, I just feel like having a good time with everybody."

"Sounds like a reason enough to me. Oh by the way, completely off topic, are we still on for Friday?"

"Sure," I smile at the prospect that Friday, we're going out together, a girls night out of sort, our first in seven years. No, let me rephrase our first planned in seven years. I have a feeling that it's going to be awesome.

"You could ask Julianne to join us," Sara offers before taking a bite of her food.

"Nah, she's going out with Nancy and other friends," I reply. "And truth to be told, I want this time to be ours, next time I'll ask the two of them if they want to join."

Sara beams at my statement, then we continue talking and having a good moment.

xxxxx

"Stop…" Sara reprimands me with a giggle. We are both trying to muffle our laughs but our states make our efforts vain. I wouldn't say that we are completely drunk, but we are definitely far from sobriety.

We decided before leaving her apartment many hours ago not to take any car and that I'd sleep over, that way we could unwind properly. We've gone to the movies, we ate in a pub and hit two different clubs and three of four different bars. I can't remember the last time I had that much fun. Few were the moments when we weren't laughing ourselves stupid.

Sara is fumbling with her keys while I can't help singing which only helps to double our laughter.

"Shhh…" Sara tries again but laughs at the same time. It takes us almost five minutes to get in.

We are way too giddy to call it a night yet, so we eat a bit and drink some more. Sara sweet talks me into dancing and though my coordination is disastrous we just keep on having a blast.

Eventually we are getting to the point where standing requires more energy than we can manage to produce so we decide to change and go to bed. That was twenty minutes ago, now we are both facing a big dilemma which at the moment sounds like the most existential debate in the world.

"I want to be Batman," I state, swaying a little even though I'm not moving.

"You can't be Batman, if I'm Batman. You got to be Robin," Sara replies with a voice as intoxicated as mine.

"I don't want to be Robin… he's the sidekick… sidekicks sucks…" I reflect deeply.

"Batgirl's okay."

"No… I want to be Batman anyway… with the…cool stuffs," I make a floppy movement with my arm.

"I'm Batman already… Spiderman's cool too," she points the shirt she just lend me.

"I hate spiders," I whine. "I want to be Batman," I add with a pout.

"There's…" she closes her eyes and tries to stop herself from falling. "There's only one Batman, and it's always me…"

"Well switch for today, share…"

"But I'm always Batman…" she protests with a tiny voice.

"I want to be Batman… please…"

"No…" she pouts. "You can be an X-men… or Spock even…"

"Spock doesn't have powers…" I pule immediately.

"Same for Batman…"

"Yeah but he got cool stuffs…I want… Batman…" I start to snivel, persuaded that the world will come to an end if I'm not wearing her Batman t-shirt.

"Oh come on… don't cry… I got Scooby-Doo… and… and SpongeBob… and… please don't cry…"

"…want… Batman…"

"But…" she sighs but keeps pouting. "Okay… you can be Batman… I'll be Hulk… just this time though…"

I smile when I realise that I've won. I take off my shirt then Sara does as well, I know in the light of the morning I'll probably be embarrassed by the fact that we are now facing each other…naked from the head to the waist.

She hands me her shirt over and grabs her Hulk one. We put them on almost at the same time, her scent immediately invading my nostrils, making me so light-headed that I almost lose my footing.

"Wow…" Sara tries to holds me but that requires more lucidity than we actually possess so we end up with our asses on the floor.

We break into laughter once more, whining in pain at the same time. We crawl and hoister ourselves onto our bed still struggling for breathing, red-faced, tear-eyed.

"Oh shit…" she exclaims suddenly once we are calmer.

"What?"

"Who's going to get the light?"

We both look at the light switch which is next to the door, far from us at the moment.

"I got it…" I say before clapping my hands together.

"What the hell?" she frowns at me.

I shrug. "Your bat lair sucks."

"Yeah?" she pushes me off the bed without warning, but from the loud thump I hear following my fall on the ground I can only guess that she still hasn't recover her sense of equilibrium.

We look at each other from our spot on each side of the bed and become hysterical. Our roars are so boisterous that my stomach is hurting me really bad. I almost pee myself when I see her walk on four legs to get the light, she misjudges her distance – too focused on trying to breathe perhaps, and bumps her head on the edge of the door frame. I'd ask her if she's okay, but I'm laughing too hard to breathe, let alone talk.

"Aww…" she protests, and for a fleeting moment I can imagine her turning all green and angry which doesn't help my state.

With the dim streetlight filtering from her curtains I see her crawl back to the bed. This time getting ourselves onto it is harder than the first, but we make it eventually.

"Goodnight Batman," she says with a panting voice.

"Night Ben," I giggle back.

xxxxx

I shift position and realize that I'm alone in bed. I sit up and give myself a minute, the room is spinning a bit but I must say that Sara's idea to drink a lot of water before going to sleep must have helped a bit because my hangover isn't half as bad as I was expecting.

I woke up twice to go to the bathroom and twice Sara was sleeping by my side. I also know that I snuggled with her each time I got back into bed. A sleepy smile draws itself on my lips at the memory of the warmth of her embrace. I stand up slowly and chuckle at the sight of my shirt in the long mirror of her closet. I walk to the living room, rubbing my eyes.

Aware of her habit to watch the city when she can't sleep I was expecting her to be near her window, on the floor or on the ledge, but the vision greeting me stops me dead on my track. Oxygen flees my lung as if I had just received a punch.

Sara is lying on the couch wrapped in Greg's embrace, they are both asleep and peaceful; her back is against his chest, their hands are entwined and resting on her stomach; his other arm sneaking out of the hole between the couch and her neck holding her to him.

I feel extremely nauseated at that vision and I know that my hangover has nothing to do with it. I wonder when he arrived, if he came on his own or if she called him. I'm jealous, I can't deny that. A month ago I admitted or rather realized that I had feeling for Sara, strong feelings. Most of the time I can pretend that her and I are together, even more now that we have regular exclusive time. But then out of the blue there are moments like right now walling me back to reality, offering me a gut wrenching pain for companion.

I'm jealous of Greg.

Not only that though, I'm also jealous of their relationship. It seems so solid and good, nothing like mine with Julianne. Don't get me wrong we're alright together, but that's it. Greg and Sara seem to… I don't know, be more than alright I guess. I mean, I can only imagine that they couldn't stand to spend their night away from one another just because they are so… alright, let's not go down that road.

I turn around and walk back silently to the bedroom, sit on the edge of the bed and burry my head in my hands.

"Hey there," Sara's smoky and sleepy voice startles me. I look up and see her leaning against the door frame of her room.

"Hey, I hope I haven't woken you up," I immediately say. She was still in Greg's arms five minutes ago.

"Nah, no worries. How's your head?"

"Better than I thought it'd be, yours?"

"Still over my shoulders," she grins.

"Smartass."

She sits next to me puts a hand on the back of my neck, her fingers gently rubbing my skin, unknowingly sending my whole body in sensory overload.

"You sure you're alright?"

"Yeah," I breathe out.

She bumps our shoulders together "I'm supposed to be the grouchy one, I'm Hulk remember?" she reminds me with an amused tone. I chuckle and shake my head. "Come on let's feed you before your tummy bears get angry."

"Hey, what did I say about that," I scold her, but she's laughing it away.

We go back into the living room, Greg is still sound asleep. Sara tells me that he has a heavy sleep so much that an earthquake would probably not be enough to wake him up. Nonetheless, we decide to have cereals but still retreat into her room anyway. There we laugh, we tease each other, we talk and remember our night out, somewhere along the line we end up using her bed as a trampoline.

In the sanctuary of her bedroom, where she's mine and all mine, I feel genuinely happy, without a care in the world.

xxxxx

"Mom?" Lindsey's voice resounds in the living room.

I let my head come over the hand made fortress of books surrounding me. I'm a big reader, I enjoy almost everything. I've come to cherish the power of books, this open door to escape reality, and it's a welcome exit on a daily basis. Occasionally I try my hand at writing my own stories, but I still favour reading stories.

All this to say that there's a three digits number of book in my house. And I've been piling them up on the floor for the past two hours.

At first I needed a distraction from the fact that Jules had ditch me so she could go with Nancy and buy a gift for one of their friends. I didn't want to be petty about it but I was expecting to spend some time with her today. I have to remind myself that Nancy and her are close friends to begin with, which is good, but I'd like Nancy to let me have my girlfriend every once and a while. I mean, I don't say anything about it but I can see that Jules and I are drifting apart. I mean we barely spend time together let alone have intimacy.

No my relationship isn't crappy, but it's not at its best either, and I agree with Sara when she said that relationships were constant work in progress, or constant hard work in progress.

Anyway, in order to keep my head off the fact that things don't look good at the moment I've decided to put my library in order, at least in an order different than the last time I did it. At least that was my original plan, for some reason something Adam said a while ago came back into my mind and now I'm trying to find where his words came from.

"Hey baby, how are you?"

"Shouldn't I be the one to ask?"

"What do you mean?" I frown.

"You're changing the classification of the library again," she states matter-of-factly. "Did you have a fight with Julianne?"

"No," she tilts her head and cocks an eyebrow at my answer. "We didn't I swear."

"Then why are you upset?"

"We didn't have a fight, just had another schedule mismatch. And for the record I was looking for a quote."

"Right."

"How about going to the theatre and then to the mall or wherever you want? Spending the day together?" I offer.

"Sure," she smiles. "Let me call Sara and tell her that I won't come today."

"Oh… you had plans. Baby, it's okay, you don't have to cancel…"

"Mom," she interrupts my rant. "It's okay. You make it sound like spending time with you was a chore. I like spending time with you. Besides Sara won't mind, let me call her and then we can be on our way."

I just beam in response and watch her going to the phone. My day has definitely picked up.

xxxxx

Lindsey made us hunt for books and comics, then we've decided to have a snack time in a coffee house. There She told me about her life in high school, her time with Brenda and Sara, about her dance class, about what she thinks about doing, everything. Now we've come back home and we're having some ice cream.

"I got a question," she mumbles after taking a spoon of frozen cream in her mouth.

"Oh, it sounds serious."

"It's about feelings…" she adds shyly.

Panic attack alert.

Breathe, just breathe, it's alright. She's a teenager, puberty and hormones are kicking in, it's perfectly normal. Just breathe it's fine.

"Mom?" Lindsey calls me back to reality.

Stay calm, don't freak out. "Sorry, I was just trying to remember where I put my baseball bat, I think I need to dust it a bit."

"Mom," she chuckles and rolls her eyes.

"What? You don't want me to shoot the boys with my service weapon, do you? I'm not a monster," I reply jokingly. But I really think that I should have built a donjon when I had a chance.

She sighs but eventually laughs a little.

"You're growing up, I know," I put a lock of hair behind her ear. "Ask your question sweetie," I finally tell her.

"Well… how do you know when you like someone more than a friend?"

I take another deep breath to steady my racing pulse. "It's hard to answer that… but uh… I guess you just know. You feel like something was blooming from within and that makes you feel like a stranger in another body because you might do or say things you'd never usually say or do."

"Is it normal if I don't feel this kind of things at all?"

"What do you mean?" I frown really not understanding her question.

"I see my friends and they all seem to have crushes or feelings for someone or another… and I don't, so I'm just wondering if I'm normal," she shrugs.

Maybe my baseball bat can wait a little more.

"Baby, of course you're normal. Things will come on their own time," I put a reassuring over hers.

"Would you be mad if I felt something for a girl?" she then asks and I'm my heart just goes crazy again. "I'm not saying I'm feeling anything for a girl… but hypothetically…"

I sigh deeply. "No… I wouldn't," I eventually answer and smile at her. I'm more than aware of the fact that it'd be hypocritical of me to say otherwise.

This is probably the hardest thing about being a parent. You see your child as a child and even if they do grow up somehow your vision is having a hard time to change. You just never think about your child as a sexual being, it's just an alien thought. It's not about being open minded, it's just accepting the fact that they are indeed becoming full grown human being at our image with all that this statement implies. By the way things look I'll need a long time to get used to it, I mean I'm a bit freaked out by this particular wake up call and yet we're just talking about theory and hypotheses.

I look around and try to gather my thoughts. I know that this moment with Linds is probably the first of many more. I also know that no matter what I tell her, in the end only the choices she'll make will matter.

It's hard to realize all the things I won't be able to protect her from. One day, she'll be broken hearted, and there won't be anything for me to do or say to ease that pain. And even if I'll so my best to use my personal experience to keep her from getting hurts or making the same mistake, she'll still make her own mistakes and take her lot of bad decisions.

"I do realize that now you'll experiment a lot of things. And I can understand that you won't always include me in your teenage life, even though I wish to be part of it. I've told you before and will repeat it again and again, I'm here for you no matter what you need or do," I start. "I know that I'm probably not the best role model when it comes to romantic relationships, but I've learnt some things and as your mother it's my duty to pass on my knowledge."

"I know," she nods. "So what have you learnt, Ô wise one?" she giggles.

"Never to do anything just because your friends do it or say that they do it. I know it might seem important to be cool and to fit in, but be sure to do things because you want to and not because you feel under pressure of your friends."

She snorts. "Mom, I'm not exactly a popular girl so I don't have any pressure from the few friends I have," she smirks. "What else?"

"Respect yourself and be with someone who respects you. Never stay with someone who abuses you verbally, emotionally or physically, because this isn't love."

"Don't worry, I've been raised to kick butts," she winks at me.

That's my girl.

"Of course the safe s…" I start with a sigh.

"Mom, Mom, stop I get it. I know, we've talked about that already."

"Baby, there's no shame to have to talk about sex, I know it's embarrassing but I'd rather talk with you than leave you on your own devices," I don't voice out my worries, but without mentioning diseases and such, I'd rather have that conversation and be uncomfortable about it rather than become a grandmother while my daughter is a teenager.

"I know. But we had the classes at school and we talked about it together and…" she breathes out to steady herself. "I'm going to make you a promise, okay?" she waits for me to nod to continue. "I promise that when I really, _really_ consider being active on this particular level, I'll come to you so we can have a safe sex discussion again, not just to check that I know what there is to know, but as a proof that I'm ready and responsible enough to do _it_. I promise, I'll come to you. Is that okay?" she says seriously.

That's more than okay with me. The only fact that she's willing to make such a promise shows me that she's mature enough to understand the importance of all this; not only that it also means that she's not just going to push me aside of her teenage life and that's all I wanted. I know that I've pretty much 'banned' my parents and their opinions from my life when I was a teenager, something that I've come to regret later on, and it's definitely something I want to avoid with Lindsey. I'm glad to know that I'm not the only one to want that.

I'm proud of the way she's growing up, and to see that she does cherishes the values I taught her and at the same time makes her own. I'm proud to know that when she does give me her word she'll respect it. So now I just have to hope that she won't come to honour her promise for at least another three or four years.

"You got yourself a deal," I hook my right pinkie finger with hers.

"Good, now until that day please let's not talk about sex anymore," she pleads.

I chortle. "Okay."

"This is nice," she says after a long silence. I simply look at her and wait for her to elaborate her thought. "You and I going out, spending time together and talking."

"It is."

"We should do that more often, you know pick a day every week or I don't know, just for the two of us."

"I'd like that."

"Cool," she smiles, then she stands up and go to the sink to clean her bowl and spoon. I follow her lead and clean the table while she makes the dishes.

Once she's done she dries her hands on a rag and without a word she comes and hugs me tightly. "You're a great mom, and I know I don't say it as often as I used to but I love you."

And that ladies and gentlemen, those words, are worth more than anything in the world and they make me feel invincible, and more euphoric than if I had had a thousand fixes at the same time. Lucky me, love overdoses don't kill.

"I love you too baby, and you make me really proud everyday," I break our embrace a bit and frame her face with my hands. "And your dad would have been proud too," I tell her honestly, then kiss her forehead. It's in moment like these that I wish Eddie was still there, at the very least to see her grow up.

We hug each other again and eventually part. "Do you want me to help you put your books back in their places?"

"Sure."

Upon leaving earlier I decided to leave my books piling on the floor, knowing that they wouldn't go anywhere in my absence. Now I must admit that then trenches they form take quite some space in our living room. I tell Linds not to bother putting them in a specific order. It takes us forty minutes to have them all back onto the shelves.

"You never told me which quote you were looking for, by the way."

"I just have a few words. 'To thine own self be true…'" I declare.

"And it must follow, as the night the day Thou canst not then be false to any man," she simply completes me. She walks to one shelf in particular and grabs a book. She opens it and just needs a few turns of pages to find what she's looking for. "There you go, Hamlet, Act I, scene 3, line 78 to 80, Polonius' blessing to his son Laertes."

To say that I'm amazed would be an understatement. My jaw has fallen so abruptly on the floor that I'm afraid it might have left a permanent gap there.

"I'm impressed to say the least," I finally say as I take the book from her hands, keeping it open at the page

"Don't be, I just have a good memory," she shrugs.

"I'd say," I reply in awe.

"I'm going to my room," she simply smiles before retreating away.

I seat on the couch and take a good look at the quote.

xxxxx

"You sure you're okay?" Julianne asks me for what must be the tenth time in the last twenty minutes.

"Yeah… I just had a long day," I lie with a weak smile.

Truth to be told I've spent the last two days to cry my eyes out and curse Adam. His supposed reflection to himself, that quote of his was nothing but a ticking bomb, and it explode right when I completed it.

Be honest with yourself…

Asshole.

So that's what I did, I've been thinking and trying to figure out why Adam had decided to tell me this of all things; one thing's for sure, I didn't like the conclusions I've encountered.

I remember that Adam said this to me when I was adamant about the fact that Sara hadn't taken the feeling of 'being home' from me, obviously a lie as I've discovered. Well no, not a lie, just me not being ready to admit my vulnerability and feelings for Sara.

It could have stopped there, but it didn't. Because me being honest with myself meant…

I care deeply about Julianne, but I feel even more for Sara. That's me being honest with myself, and it doesn't take a genius to know that this isn't how things are supposed to be.

… and it'll ensue that you won't be false to anyone.

I can't keep on with Julianne, that'd be a masquerade, a cruel one at that. I can just be with her and learn to love her when I'm yearning from someone else. That's unfair, Julianne doesn't deserve to be strung along in my messy feeling. Now I'm not stupid or awfully idealistic. I do realise that breaking up with Julianne doesn't mean that I'll have a chance to pursue Sara – that calls for many other hours of thinking, but at least I won't have to leave a lie and be miserable about it.

They ignorance is bliss, and they're right sometimes. I mean if Adam hadn't played that particular mind game with me, I could have pretended for a little be more that with time Jules and I would be perfect for one another, that my feelings for her were strong enough to smother my feelings for Sara.

Damn you, Adam.

"Cath, you don't have to come… we don't have to go if you don't feel like it," Julianne offers gently. She's standing behind me with her hands on my shoulders, we're looking at each other through our reflections in mirror in front of us.

I gave myself a week before talking to Julianne. I just need to be sure that I'm not taking any rush decision. I know myself when I'm emotionally upset I don't see things clearly, so I'd rather wait and sunder myself more just to be sure that I'm doing what's really right.

"Don't worry, I'm fine really," I say more convincingly.

Tonight is the birthday of another of Nancy and Jules' friends. They've decided to make a surprise party at Nancy's. I'm not exactly overjoyed to go considering that I'm not too acquainted with all their friends but as I once said to Sara they are nice and fun. Plus I figure a little breather will be welcome considering my general mood.

"Let's go," I prompt as I grab my bag and my keys.

On the way to Nancy's, Julianne makes me a little briefing on every person who will be there, even though I've seen them at least two or three times already it's good to be reminded of who's who.

xxxxx

I don't know if it's the relaxer atmosphere of Nancy's house compared to the clubs and bars where we met before; the alcohol pouring freely; or more generally the good energy going, but I must say that I'm genuinely enjoying myself more than ever before when I was in company of those people I vaguely know.

Conversations have been flowing easily, and I've even had the chance to tell some funny stories from work. We improvised a space to dance and another where most of the guys and some girls are playing some interactive video games. It's a good party, the honoured guest is happy and everyone seems to be having a good time.

After trying to sing along twice while the other pretended to play my rock band behind me I let someone else try and decide to go have another drink. After checking the table that is used like a bar and the kitchen, I come to the conclusion that there's nothing to my taste, so I decide to go to the storage room.

As I near the room, I realize that someone left the light on, but the closer I get and the better I hear the muffled sound of voices. I slow my pace down not really wanting to interrupt anyone.

I can discern Nancy's laugh mingling with Julianne's.

"That was incredible," Nancy, giggles.

"I bet, I wish I could have been there to see his face," Julianne replies/

I stay in the dark but come closer to the door, and from this angle I can see Julianne leaning against the heavy wooden cupboard next to Nancy. Why don't I go in? I don't know, maybe I feel like an intruder.

It's funny but when I was thinking, I realize that I seldom miss Julianne when she wasn't around. I was glad when she was around but when she wasn't I didn't really miss her, not like Sara was obviously missing Greg when I slept over at her place.

There's a long silence between them and they exchange long gazes. Nancy turns her head away and clears her throat. "About the other day… I don't know why I said that… it wasn't right, I shouldn't have… I mean… I shouldn't bring this on the table again, I just wanted to say I'm sorry," she struggles, apparently angry with herself. "Anyway, we should go back."

Julianne sighs. "I'm not," she whispers. "I… me too…" she looks at Nancy with a sad glint in her eyes.

Nancy gasps, but then shakes her head. "Don't… don't just say it because…"

"I mean it… I…" Julianne's hand comes to rest on Nancy's cheek. Just when Nancy is about to break the contact to walk away, Julianne connects her lips with Nancy's.

I think I missed the punch line of the joke, for it has to be a joke.

They're exchanging a passionate kiss, swaying lightly like a boat in the middle of tempest, yet I'm the one with a burning chest, and troubles to breathe.

The kiss is broken as abruptly as it had started and they both jump apart like two magnets of the same polarity.

"I'm sorry… I just… I shouldn't…" Julianne pants heavily. "I need to talk to her… I need…"

"Jules…"

"No… I can't keep on being with her when all I want is to be with you… I messed up… I should have stopped things from going too far… I should… I messed up… and I can't go on like this… I can't…" she looks upward as if she was trying to hold back tears. "I don't expect anything…but this is what I want… I need to talk to her first… sort things out… tell her the truth…"

"No need… she knows…" I whisper with a snort almost against my will. They both turn to me with a start.

I turn around and walk as fast as I can, suddenly suffocating inside. My vision is narrowed, all I can see is the door, not that I think anyone would notice my exit, too busy doing something else.

The first gust of fresh air swirling into my lungs makes me dizzy and disoriented. I just start walking without direction, just walking to stop myself from thinking.

Something tugs at me, forcing me to turn around.

"Cath, wait…" I'm facing Julianne again. I immediately extricate myself from her grip. "I…I'm sorry…"

I just look at her blankly, not able to think of anything to say.

"I want you to understand… I didn't mean…" she starts then trails off. She looks away and then takes a deep breath "Okay, I owe you honesty," she declares firmly. "I fell for your sister when I first kissed her… months before I ever met you…but it wasn't right then…" she says calmly. "I thought… one date with you… and I'd make her jealous… I didn't mean to lead you on, it was really wrong of me to let this go on because… I truly care about you… and what we had…I've tried… I've tried my hardest…but… I can't help… never could help it… I love her…"

The wind is whipping my body, igniting the fire of my anger, shaking me from my shocked state.

So, all this was just a joke…

I shake my head, and start walking away from her, from all this, she grabs my wrist; in one swift movement I slap her with blunt force. She has a recoil movement and takes a few seconds to swallow the physical pain and then looks at me with a pitiful gaze.

"I don't ever want to see you again," I spit before walking away. It takes me a few minute to remember my car, so I eventually walk to it, climb in quickly, put my seatbelt on and turn the ignition. I don't care about the fact that I should probably not drive right now, all I know is that I need to get away and quiet all the thoughts in my head right now.

xxxxx

I bang against the door in front of me with desperation, not sure I'll be able to support my own weight for long. I've lost notions of direction and gravity, I just hope that my autopilot didn't fail me.

I almost fall on my face when the door does open. I can discern Sara's blurry feature in my intoxicated haze, I hear sounds but can't make words out of it.

I hold myself to the nearest wall and look at her, or at least in her direction.

This is all your fault… you made me feel home… then you took it all away… and it hurt… and I turn to her to fill the void you left… when you took everything from me…this is all your fault…

I think my lips are moving but it's hard to tell if I'm actually speaking or not, it all sounds like noise to me. I'm more and more dizzy and unsteady. The room starts to spin faster, then the light goes off and everything goes quiet.

* * *

**I know, I know it's another slow chapter, but I needed it to get the things moving, plus one significant other's out of the way. Julianne and Nancy... yeah... but I gave hints about that coming, subtle maybe, but they were there... I'll clear it all up later :P  
**

_**'This above all: to thine own self be true,**_

_**And it must follow, as the night the day**_

**_Thou canst not be false to any man.'_ ---- **_Hamlet_** by William Shakespeare, Act I, scene 3 line 78 to 80**

**Thanks for reading  
**


	27. Chapter 27

**Hey everyone, thank you so much for all your reviews. Here's some more.  
**

**Enjoy,**

**So ;)**

**Ps: **Sasha**, I promise that I'm writing as fast as I can :)**

**Thanks to **Immi **and **freddie**, your opinions make the whole difference ;)  
**

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Chapter 27**

_Sara's POV_

"Moon?" a shiver runs through my spine at Greg's whisper, his breath tickling my skin, my heart always skips a beat when he calls me with the nickname he chose me.

"Yeah?" I whisper back, squeezing our tangled fingers. We've been lying awake in each other's arms for the last hour. He kisses my shoulder gently as randomly as before and spoons me from behind a bit closer.

"A few months back… I…" He clears his throat nervously and goes on "…mentioned my parents' anniversary …"

"It's in two weeks…" I add softly.

"So you do remember…" he snorts a bit and though he's facing my neck I can feel him smile. "I… would you be my date for this event?"

"All your family's going to be there?"

"I wouldn't say all, but a really big part of the clan, yeah."

"You're nervous about it?"

"Nah, I'll be wearing steel-toe shoes, so if we have to slow dance I'll still be able to walk afterwards," he deadpans.

"Fuck you," I mutter.

"Well…" he's about to come back wittily considering that our currents state of nakedness, but I beat him to it.

"Shut up," I elbow him gently into the stomach, he tightens our embrace to restraint my moves.

We both laugh quietly. "Anyway, I just wanted to officially invite you, and you to officially think about it. No pressure," he kisses my shoulder. I grin, I know that he's honest when he says no pressure, we both know that meeting his family will be quite a big thing; we've been together for almost six months now, so I guess meeting his family is a normal step. However I won't lie, I'm not sure if I'm ready yet.

Greg and I are both startled by a loud banging on my door. I glance at my alarm clock and frown.

"What the hell…?" I mutter before disentangling myself from Greg, the sheet caresses my skin as I stand up into the chilly air of my bedroom. I put on my boxers preparing myself to go to the door where the banging is steady and strong, aggressive almost.

"Wait, do you want me to check?" Greg offers and dresses up as well.

I finish passing my t-shirt over my shoulders, walk to him and give him a butterfly kiss on the lips. "Don't worry, it's probably nothing," I reassure him and walk to my still noisy door.

I'm not one to be spooked easily, I'm always careful so I don't expect the worst case scenario first. I look through the peephole and worry immediately grips me. I swing the door open quickly only to have my guest almost falling on the ground.

"Cath?" I catch her back and try to hold her up. She leans away from me against the wall next to her. She makes sounds which are in between moans and gargles, one thing's for sure she's not speaking any language known by human beings.

"Cath, my goodness…" I keep on holding her and kick the door shut. "Greg!" I call him firmly. "I got you…" I inform Cath who's still trying to communicate. "Sweetie, you're not making any sense," I tell her even though I do realise that talking to her is pointless considering her current faculties.

Greg is next to me within seconds, I don't have time ask him for help to move Catherine to the couch because she suddenly goes limp into my arms.

"Oh great," I groan.

She comes to quickly and gets sick on herself and the floor before passing out again.

Wonderful…

Greg grabs her other side so we can hoist her as if she was in a makeshift chair, transporting her to the couch. We lay her down carefully. My first reflex his to check her pulse and her pupils.

"Shall I call an ambulance?" Greg asks with concern handing me a wet clothe to clean her up a bit.

"Judging from the heavy smell of alcohol I'd say she's only plastered, we're going to keep a close eye on her though."

I sit on the small space left on the couch and caress Catherine's face gently. She's a bit sweaty and pink, her hair is a mess and she's looking worse for wear. I delicately slap her repeatedly with the tips of my fingers to try to get her conscious again. "Cath?... sweetie…Cath…" I whisper.

"I think she's out for the count, we won't even be able to give her a little water," Greg states.

Something hits me and my worry expands. "Did she drive here?" Greg and I exchange horrified looks.

"I'll be right back," he rushes to the door puts his snickers on and goes out immediately.

Please, tell me she took a cab, tell me she took a cab…

"Cath… what the hell happened?" I murmur as I cup her cheek. I run my fingers in a soothing gesture over her face.

Greg comes back after a moment, he closes the door behind him and locks bolts; he's holding a purse, a vest and keys.

Oh no…

"I found these on the staircase," he mentions the purse and vest. "Her car was half on the street, half on the curb, headlights on, engine running, door opened and keys on the ignition… it's a wonder she's in one piece," he informs me grimly. "I parked it properly and after a quick inspection, there are no signs that she might have hit anything, but I'll check again with daylight…"

This keeps getting better and better.

I pass a hand over my face and take everything in, this is not good, not only Cath is wasted beyond any reasonable limits but she took the wheel, she could have hurt someone or worse, not to mention her own safety.

"I… I'm going to put fresh sheets on the bed, then I'll help you move her to the bedroom," Greg simply says before walking away.

I'm focusing myself on the fact that she's here and safe right now, now is time to take care of her; the lectures and worry speeches will wait. I go to the kitchen and wet a clothe with cold water, I come back to Cath's side and sponge her face delicately.

I'm glad Greg is by my side and that he's quick to react, that way I can look over Cath while he's getting everything's ready. Once he's done in the bedroom, we move her there carefully, she gets sick twice in the distance between my room and the living, which makes me bless my decision not to have a carpeted floor. Greg gives me privacy so I can change Cath's clothes; while putting her into a more comfortable outfit I notice her scratched knees, elbows and hands, once I have her with a pair of shorts and a t-shirt on I call Greg to help me take care of her battered skin. The wounds aren't deep, I can only guess that she fell more than once, and crawled her way up, considering her advanced state of intoxication it doesn't seem so improbable.

Greg and I then make several come and go in my room, bringing bowl full of cold water and a clothe so I can refresh her face a bit and avoid any raise of temperature, pain killers, a glass of water, a recipient in case she'd get sick again or putting used things back into place; Greg insists that I stay at her side while he cleans the vomit trail Cath has left behind her.

"I'll be in the living room if you need anything," he announces once he's done, assuming – rightly – that I won't leave Cath's side.

"Rus?" I call him with his short name before he completely disappears out the door. I tilt my head a bit asking him to come near me, I stand from the armchair I was sitting on and kiss him tenderly. "Thank you."

He doesn't answer anything and just grin a bit, he kisses my temple and leaves the room.

I bring the small armchair closer to bed and let myself fall back onto it. I watch Cath's quiet figure and start wondering yet again what lead her to that point.

xxxxx

Rays of light are filtering through my blinds, I stand up yet again for the umpteenth time to stretch a bit and rub my eyes. Seven hours went by since Catherine literally stumbled into my apartment. Greg and I had to change the sheets once again and I had to put fresh clothes on her as she got sick while being asleep, a good thing I was watching over her because she could have choked. He offered to make rounds but I was too worried to sleep so I stayed watching over Cath while he dosed off in the living room.

There's a soft knock on the door of my room, then Greg's head appears in the threshold. I stand and join him.

"How's she?" he whispers.

"Still out."

"Nancy's on the phone," he purses his lips.

"Did you say anything?"

"No, she asks after you."

"Okay," I turn and look at Catherine.

"I'll watch over her," he says before I even ask him to.

"Thanks," I reply then move past him to and go to the living room. I pick up the phone Greg has left onto the kitchen counter "Hello?"

"_Sara? It's Nancy…"_ I immediately take note of her weak and wavering voice. _"…I can't get hold of Cath anywhere… her cell is off, she's not at her place… and…"_

"She's here with me," I reassure her immediately.

I think she smothers a sob before speaking again. _"Thank goodness…"_

"Nance…" I hold myself from asking her questions.

"_How is she?_"

"She's… resting… we haven't spoken ever since she arrived last night," I decide to stay vague, Nancy's obviously upset and I don't think telling her that Catherine drove while being drunk out of her skull will help the matter. "Do you want to come over?"

"_No…"_ she sighs. _"We… didn't part on the best terms last night…I'm the last person she's want to see right now…"_

I've seen Cath being really worked up for little feuds with Nancy, I can only imagine how ugly was whatever happened between them yesterday to push Cath into such a state of oblivion.

"Okay… I got to go but I'm keeping an eye on her, she's alright and safe, I give you my word that I'll keep it that way as long as she's under my watch."

"_Yeah, okay… thank you Sara…"_

"Sure thing," I reply and after telling her goodbye I hear the final click followed by the dial tone. I pass a tired hand over my face and go into the bedroom again.

Greg and I take turns to shower and get dressed for our day, cold water helps me to shake the tiredness out of my body. Questions haven't left my mind though, I really wonder what happened last night; I'm still not sure how I'm going to deal with Cath… this day promise to be long.

I spend two hours reading a book before Cath finally gives signs of coming back amongst the livings. I instantly put my book aside and watch her attempting several time to open her eyes, and moving tediously her hand to her head – which must be hurting like hell, of that I've no doubts.

I kneel next to her and rest a gentle hand on her hair, my thumb caressing her forehead. She struggles to open her mouth and it's another two minutes before she can situate herself properly.

"Sar…?"

"Hush… drink this," I softly order. I offer her a tall glass of water and two painkillers.

She drinks with difficulties, and though she doesn't speak right away I can see her trying to juggle her memory.

"I think something died in my mouth," her raspy voice resounds.

I chuckle. "You could say that. How do you feel?"

"Rotten…" she grunts in reply with a frown, then she winces. I help her to sit up and she buries her head in her hands to block the light away. "Gluey…" she mumbles. "Shower…" she adds after a moment.

It takes me a few seconds to understand that she needs a shower because she feels gluey, no wonder considering the amount of alcohol her body had to sweat out. She stands up with great effort and sways more than she walks. I offer her my body to lean on and steady herself. We barely make it to the corridor that she lifts her hand to her mouth, making a painful moan; she leaves my side, trying to hurry to the bathroom but her body protests against such violence and she ends up retching on the floor yet again – her stomach being almost empty she's spewing mostly bile.

"Easy, there," I rub her back gently

"Ugh…" she whines. "Sorry…" she apologizes with an embarrassed and shameful expression.

"Don't worry about it," I shrug. "Let's get you cleaned up."

I guide her to the bathroom, pull the top of the toilet seat down so she can seat down while I run her a bath. She stays still, but it's obvious that she's fighting nausea. Once hot soapy water is filling my tub I help her getting out of her clothes and she doesn't offer any resistance, as if she was a child. I wait until she's submerged into the tub and then kneel close to her.

I grab a sponge and wet her head delicately, she sighs with relief so I repeat my gesture several times. "Feels good?" I ask, and she simply nods. "I'm going to leave you alone, if you need help or anything, just call okay?" she nods again. "I'll come check up on you in a while anyway," I push the damp bangs on her forehead and kiss her gently, then I make my way out of the bathroom.

I notice the faint smell of bleach and pine tree in the corridor, when I look around I have the visual confirmation that Greg has cleaned up after Catherine, again. He's cleaning his hands on the kitchen sink so I walk silently to him and encircle his waist from behind. He automatically leans back in my embrace, and I deliver several butterfly kisses on his shoulder.

"Thank you, for everything you've done."

He shrugs. "She's my friend as well, that was the least I could do," he answers and reaches for a rag to dry his hands. "How is she?"

"As bad as one could expect."

"I've checked the car once again," he announces. "No signs of collision or accidents."

"Good to know," I cuddle against him.

He turns around and wraps his arms around me. "I'm going to prepare her something for her hangover, then I'll leave you two alone."

"You don't have to go."

"I know, but maybe she wants to talk… you know, confide…besides I think she might not be keen on feeling crappy around too many people…"

"Yeah, you're right…" I agree, but still I don't really want him to go. I'm not the clingy kind, but I must say that it was comforting to have him by my sides last night and right now.

He kisses my forehead then rest his own against it. "If you need anything though, I'll come back right away."

We disengage ourselves and he starts roaming around in my kitchen; I sit on a stool on the other side of the counter and let my head fall on my folded arms, worrying myself all night actually tired me. I know I'm a light sleeper, but I still need to refill my batteries every now and then. When I emerge, there a tall glass full of… I don't know what… in front of me.

"What is that?"

"Secret recipe against hangover."

"Do I want to know what's in it?"

"Meh… probably not," he chuckles.

We share a little more complicity while teasing each other in the kitchen as we cook, then the sound of the water pouring down stops, sign that Catherine will soon be ready to face the world. I hug Greg and then we kiss each other goodbye.

As I had foreseen Catherine comes into the living room a few minutes later. She's wearing my clothes, dark shorts and a blue shirt buttoned up except from the two top buttons. She comes to the counter and sits on the stool I was previously sitting on, I'm finishing cooking some scramble eggs. When I turn around to present her the plate she's holding her head with one hand, looking a little bit green.

I push the glass Greg left for her, she winces at the sight.

"Greg said you need to drink this straight."

"Okay… this look like liquid remains…" she says with apprehension.

"Eww… come on that's…" I shiver. "It's supposed to help you with the hangover."

"It really looks like…"

"I got it, just drink okay. I made you scramble eggs to wash it down afterwards," I point out the plate in front of her.

She whines and pinches her nose before drinking the brownish substance in one go. Then she eagerly puts some eggs in her mouth. She eats a bit and then starts pushing her food around the plate.

"Okay, hit me with it, give me details of last night."

"Well… I was lying down with Greg, talking when you banged on my door, I opened and had to catch you before you crashed down. You tried to communicate; 'try' being the operative words. I think if Chewbacca was drunk he'd have sounded like you last night. Then you got sick a first time, after what Greg and I moved you to the couch and made sure you were alright. We asked ourselves how you managed to get there, it turned out that you had driven here, Greg checked you car which you had by the way 'parked' in the middle of the street, left running, the keys inside before loosing your belongings in the staircase," I start.

"I drove?" she winces.

"Yes, and it's miraculous that you made it here in one piece let alone didn't cause any accident. Greg listened to the scanner for any call for hit and run just to make sure. We transported you to the bedroom, you got sick twice on the way, then you slept it off. That's about it."

She sighs and hides her face in her hands.

"Oh, and Nancy called a little while before you woke up, worried about you."

She chuckles dryly and shakes her head. "I'm sorry about the trouble…"

"Cath, stop. I'm here for you. You didn't cause any trouble."

"Yeah, well thank you for looking after me."

"No problem. One request though, next time you decide to drink yourself into oblivion let me know where you are, I'll come and wait for you to be done before driving you back home safely. Or better yet, come here I got a good liquor cabinet."

She snorts and smiles shyly. "I don't think I'll be touching alcohol again anytime soon."

"Good to know," I smile. "Now do you mind if we move to the couch, Kim Possible rerun will be on soon," I announce before moving around the counter.

"That's it?" I turn around and see her frowning.

"I'm not sure to understand."

"You're not going to ask me why I drunk myself to oblivion?"

I tilt my head. "No. If you want to talk I'm here, ready to listen; if not I'm still here for you," I reply honestly before going to the couch and turning my set on.

She eventually joins me on the couch and we watch the television together. Eventually after a while she lets go and enjoy falling back into childhood along with me, she doesn't laugh but here and there she smiles a bit.

"How's your hangover?" I ask her once we are done watching cartoons.

"I don't know what Greg recipe is, I don't think I even want to know, but one thing's for sure, it worked."

"Good to know," I grin.

"I'm hungry," she simply states, so we move back to the kitchen side. "_My Life Sucks_?" she says with question.

I turn around with a frown and chuckles as I understand her reference. She's holding a book Greg left on the counter.

"You'd think I'd have been informed if anyone had written my autobiography," she deadpanned.

"Ouch," I chortle.

"I didn't know they had made a book," she keeps on referring to the website of the same name the boys and us sometimes visit to have a laugh during our breaks at work. On that site people tell their story in a short way, you know the kind of story when life show you the meaning of irony, or being unlucky.

"Rayner, Greg's brother, gave it to him last week, we read a bit last night, it's fun," I explain before turning around again and starting to gather what I need.

"Today…" she starts reading. "…I caught my girlfriend kissing another woman, after what she told me that she was in love with that other woman and only got with me to make that woman jealous. Did I mention that the other woman was none other than my sister? My life sucks."

I hold myself from laughing when the tone of her voice tells me that she isn't reading and that she's telling her story. I close my eyes and sigh silently; I know better than to say anything right now.

"The ironic part of it all is that today I had planned on ending things with Julianne. I've been thinking and truth to be told I didn't have feelings for her, I cared, but that was all. Where it differs is that I genuinely cared about her from the beginning, I wanted to be with her then. From her point our whole situation was nothing but a joke because she wanted Nancy before being with me, and she never stopped. To think that all this time she thought about Nancy even when we…" she grunts.

Now I'm facing her leaning on the counter, waiting for her to let it all out or signs that she's done. She looks at me as if to let me know that it was my cue. I could tell her what I think about Julianne right now, that she shouldn't blame herself or feel stupid for what happen. You know the things one might want to hear in those cases.

"And here I thought my relationship records were bad," I shrug.

She snorts. "If we compare our records I'm sure mine is worse, and not just because I'm older than you."

"We probably should do that one night," I smirk. "Compare our records"

"Funny night in perspective," she rolls her eyes.

She looks away and loses herself in her thoughts.

"Casualties?" I ask after a moment, her head snaps back into my direction. She questions me with her eyes before connecting the dots.

She lets out a deep breath. "A bruised heart, a shattered ego, ashes from the burnt bridge of trust between my sister and I, and… the feeling to be the biggest idiot to walk this Earth."

Not finding anything to say I walk around the counter and place myself in front of her. I start to feel like a stranger in my own body, nervous even. I move ineptly and warp my arms around her, she doesn't move but I can tell that the embrace isn't comfortable.

"Sar?" she calls me after a moment.

"Yeah?"

"I take it this is a hug in your book?"

"It is," I confirm.

"Not to discourage you or anything but…" she clears her throat. "You're kind of shitty at it," she chortles.

She's right about that. Physical contacts aren't my forte, even though I know it might sound weird that I can't hug her properly when her and I have been so intimate in the past. I can't help it though, I seldom initiate physical contact, and though I've come to learn how to appreciate the value of hugs, it's always kind of a big deal for me to give one on my own devices.

I snort. "I know," and we both smother a laugh.

"Sar?" her voice has a different tone, a fragile one.

"Yeah?"

"Please don't let go…" she finally wraps her arms around my back, holds me back fiercely and starts to shake slightly. She's holding back a moan but the hot wet patch starting to grow on my shoulder lets me know that she's crying.

xxxxx

I take a deep breath, smooth my clothes once more and wait for the door in front of me to open. Greg finally appears in front of me only to freeze in motion, surprise to see me on his threshold. Today his parents are celebrating their anniversary, Greg invited me two weeks ago, but we never broach the subject again after that. He stayed true to his word about not putting pressure on me about going, and I took my time to make up my mind. So until this very moment Greg didn't know I'd go with him.

"I didn't know if the dress code was formal or casual, so I tried to compromise…" I speak after a long silence. "I have a formal outfit though if you want me to change," I raise the coat hanger hiding a formal dress under a protective fabric.

Greg blinks and closes his slightly open mouth. "Be still my heart…" he mutters. "It's perfect… you look outstanding," he says with a light blush before kissing me shyly on the cheek. It's amazing that even now he sometimes manage to be shy and clumsy as if we weren't dating. "Come on in."

The drive to his parents is about two hours long, we talk about everything but the awaiting party. I'm nervous to be honest, and though he tries not to show it, I know Greg is nervous as well. That being said, I think I made the right choice by going there with him.

xxxxx

After a rather tensed beginning, I finally manage to ease up a bit around Greg's family. It was a nice family event, it felt like being with my brothers and that was great. I think I pass the interview with his parents, which turned out to be more nerve wrecking than ever.

"… so he wore the helmet, all the time, every day… for something like three months."

I chuckle "He went around with a football helmet for three months?"

"Yeah, well for him it was part of his spacesuit," Jasper finishes the story he was telling me.

"Jas, tell me you're not embarrassing me," Greg comes back and offers me a glass. "There you go."

"Thanks," I grin at him. "Jasper, was telling me about your spacesuit."

"Ugh…" Greg shakes his head in his hand.

"Alright, give me a moment, I'm going to see if they need help with the food," Jasper excuses himself.

"Do you want me to come with you?" Greg asks.

"No, don't worry," Jasper winks at his brother.

"So you wanted to be an astronaut?" I pick up the conversation with Greg.

Greg sighs and takes a sip of his drink. "Yeah, or at least working into this area."

"Really?"

"Uh-huh, I worked toward that goal actually."

"What happened?"

"I had to go work on a two years project in Europe, then there would have been a place for me here. I didn't go."

"Why not?"

"Dana got really sick… it was a rough time, and we needed the family to stick together to go through it," he shrugs.

"Family's important," I agree with him.

"I don't regret anything, and I did the internship afterwards, and got my diploma. I didn't find a place, and then I got interested into forensic sciences," he smiles.

I lean in a leave a lingering kiss on his cheek; he then turns to look at me. "What was that for?"

"No reason," I shrug with a grin.

He reaches for my hand, entwines our fingers then delivers a soft butterfly kiss on the back of my hand. "Thank you for coming."

"Thank you for inviting me."

We look at each other and though we don't say the words – because it would ruin the moment, our eyes say them loud and clear, we have feelings for each other.

xxxxx

"Hey," Greg greets me with a kiss on my crown. I immediately pick up on his mood but don't ask any question. "How was your time with Cath and the girls?" he asks from the bedroom where he's changing.

"It was cool, we went to see a movie then we had some fun at the video game arcade," I sum up my afternoon with Cath, Linds and Brenda. I must say that since the Julianne fiasco a little over a month ago, Cath has been joining us a lot more; though she's still having a hard time, I make a point of honour to make her smile whenever she's in my company.

The good side is that we are getting closer and Adam not only noticed the evolution in our rapports but he's quite happy with our progress.

"How did it go with your cousin and Jasper?"

"Alright. Are you hungry, do you want me to cook something?" he changes topic immediately. Greg is seldom moody, but I can tell with certainty that something's bothering him.

"Sure."

"What do you want?" he keeps on goes on the kitchen side.

"Surprise me," I wink at him and return to my reading.

We start to eat quietly, or rather I start to eat while he's pushing his food around his plate.

"What is it?" I ask him.

"Nothing," he shuts me down.

"Alright," I give in not wanting to cause unnecessary tension. "Something's bothering you obviously, if you want to talk about it I'm here," I gently remind him.

"It's silly," he shrugs.

"Okay," I smile bit.

"It's…" he sighs and puts his fork aside. "Luka and Jasper… they asked me if I was going to pop the question to you."

I choke slightly on my water and put my glass down.

"They wouldn't stop teasing me about it…"

"Why does it upset you so much?"

"I laughed. They asked me if I was considering asking you to marry me… and I laughed."

I chortle. "Greg, I know we're in Vegas, but if you were to ask me right now, I'd probably laugh too, no offence. We've been together seven months… I mean come on," I reply humorously. "There's no need to be upset about it."

"You don't understand… I laughed…" he repeats. "Not the 'ah ah you're funny stop teasing' laugh… I laugh as in 'yeah right, that's never going to happen'," he elaborates, my grin dies on my lips at his words.

Oh.

I have a slight recoil movement. "Huh," I snort with a small uncomfortable smile.

He stands up. "I just couldn't picture that happening and today I still can't…"

"Greg, as I said we've been together for seven months, I personally think it early to consider getting married together…"

"You don't get it, the thought even to marry you just doesn't… I can't picture it at all… so what do you think that says about us?"

"Hold on… what are you saying?" I stand myself and face him, trying really hard to keep my temper in check.

"I can't picture any future between us and yes it bothers me, I can't even picture us together one week from now…"

"Not to sound petty, but if we keep on this road we may not be together tomorrow," I reply sharply.

He opens his mouth but closes it immediately and sigh. "Can you picture us, married, with kids?"

"We've been together for seven months for crying out loud, I didn't know I was supposed to plan my whole life now!"

"That doesn't answer the question, can you…"

"Fine, no right now I can't. But that doesn't mean anything," I raise my shoulders.

"How can you say it doesn't mean anything? That's exactly the point Sara, if we can't picture a future together then what's the point to be together in the first place?"

I feel like taking punches in the guts. "Do you hear yourself right now?"

"I do Sara, isn't the point of being in a relationship to build something? We can't see that happening that should be eloquent," he says vehemently.

I take a deep breath and decide to be upfront. "Greg, do you want to break up with me? Because if that's what it's all about then man up and say it plain and simple rather than serving me bullshit."

"This is not what I'm saying," he defends himself. "I don't want us to break up."

"Do I detect a 'but' in your voice?" I question incredulous.

I know nothing's perfect, but I must say that I had seen no signs of us being on a hot spot.

"Doesn't it scare you that neither of us can picture a future together? It scares the shit out of me," he tells me with a quieter voice. "I mean, we've been together for seven months, I'm supposed to love you and yet I can't foresee anything…"

Wow.

"Supposed to love me…" I repeat in a whisper.

Wow

"…does it mean that we haven't built anything in those past months? Does it mean that we were just very good friends with benefits? You see that's the kind of worries I have right now; and that scares me because I don't want it to be the case and…" he goes on, not having heard me.

I stay mouth agape so much I'm surprised by his words, not to mention hurt.

"Wow, time out," I utter firmly, cutting him in his rant. I push the balls of my palms into my eyes, refusing to cry when I'm so pissed off.

"Wait… I'm not expressing myself right… this comes out a lot worse than the point I'm trying to make," he says after catching up with his own words.

One says that words are like bullets or arrows, once they are shot there's nothing to stop them and there's always an impact at the end. The only thing changing is the extent of the damages. One is right, in my opinion.

I give Greg credit for not meaning things the way it came out, but it's too late he did say things this way, and damn it's hurts.

"I don't want to hear anymore of this. I don't want to hear you tell me that our relationship is a joke…"

"That's not…"

"I don't want to hear you tell me that we don't have a future together," I keep on firmly. I look at him with a dark glare. "I want a time out," I repeat my request.

Greg and I don't have too many disagreements, because we communicate a lot. What's more we came up with ground rules when we disagree on something. Rather than discussing a topic while being emotional we take a time out – which length may vary, and we agree not to address the issue again until the end of the time out.

"Moon…" he sighs.

"Don't…" I say sharply. "Get your things and leave," I point the door of my apartment.

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath before releasing it, sign that he's caving in. "How long?"

"I'll let you know. In the meantime I don't want to see you nor speak to you, don't come around, don't call," I inform him without animosity.

"Sar, come on…"

"Get your things and leave," I repeat my earlier request.

This is by far the strictest time out we'll be having. Usually it's just about not broaching a said topic, but we are actually going to take a break on my initiative.

He stays in front of me, and pleads with his eyes that I reconsider my terms. I'm too pissed off to think of anything else, all I know is that I want distance from him.

"Take your things and get the fuck out," I say with a controlled and yet edgy voice.

He walks to the entrance grabs his backpack lying there and walks out of my apartment.

It's only once the door slams home in its frame that I'm realizing that Greg and I just have our first very big argument. I also realize that it could possibly be the last.

xxxxx

My cell phone rings and I answer without checking the caller ID.

"Sidle."

"I figured it out," Catherine announces me.

"Figured what out?"

"How to get out of your car," she pursues. "It's tricky because I don't have the blueprint of your car, but if you follow my instructions we should be fine… okay on your left there should be a door handle… if you pull the door should open…" she instructs me seriously.

I chuckle softly. "I take that I've been in your driveway for too long."

"Something like that, I'll see you in a sec," she says before hanging up.

I exit my car, lock it and walk to the door which immediately opens.

"Oooh… that bad?" she winces.

"Yeah," I confirm with a small voice.

Ever since my fight with Greg yesterday, I've been down. Today, I thought I'd go to Cath to spend some time with her to take my mind of things, now that I'm at her place, I realize that I actually want to talk about things with her.

"Pillow therapy?" she proposes and I nods in acceptance.

I shed my jacket, fold it and leave it on the back of the couch, then follow Cath in her bedroom. We lie next to each other both staring at the ceiling. The pillow therapy is something we usually do with Brenda and Linds, it was an initiative of the girls; in bed we share truth, feelings, confidences, laughter and confessions are shared in bed. I never thought that such a tiny surface could actually hold an entire world, but Cath and the girls showed me that it was possible.

"I had a fight with Greg," I confess.

"Sounds serious."

"We're… on a time out."

She pushes herself up on her elbows. "Is that your way to say you've broken up?" she asks cautiously.

"We haven't… but we probably would have if I hadn't requested for a time out."

"How did it get so bad?"

"I'm not sure…I mean, I think about our argument and I can see where he's coming from…and I know that he didn't mean things to sound that bad…but the way he said things… it's like every new reply was a new dig into our couple's grave…"

"Deep," she says with impressed pout.

"Yeah, get me depressed and I'll write poetry," I smirk.

"How do you feel?

"Miserable," I tell her honestly. "Desperate to work things out…I also know that I'm still too upset to actually have a rational talk with him… but I'm really miserable, because as much as I hate to admit it, my heart is on the line," I admit out loud, then quickly move on. "It's our first really big fight."

"I'm sure you'll work it out. At least to get your first hot monkey 'make up' sex party," Cath deadpans.

I burst into out of the place laughter. "I cannot believe you just said that."

"Yeah me neither, I think I'm going to gag… I should never think of Greg that way…way too creepy… for me that is," she shivers.

"Someone's showing signs of withdrawal," I joke.

"Oh shut up," she elbows me gently and with both laugh softly.

"How are you?"

She sighs heavily. "Today is day 42 of me not talking to my sister and ignoring Julianne. So I'm peachy, swimming in an ocean of bliss…"

"I bet, you're not beyond the rainbow, you actually live _in_ the rainbow…"

"Where everyone eats love and shits butterfly…"

"You're not such a bad poet yourself," I chuckle.

"Not has deep as you but thanks."

"You're welcome."

She shifts position and rolls onto her stomach, digging her elbows into the mattress so she can look down at me every now and then.

"I know I being immature, that ignoring the issue won't magically solve it, but I don't know…" she trails off. "Do you believe in karma?" she asks out of the blue.

"More or less… yeah I guess," I shrug.

"It's not the first time Nancy and I are in this situation, we are sisters and it's not the first time someone hangs out with me to be with her, or hang out with her to be with me… mind you it's true that statistically it was more about getting me, not that I'm conceited or anything, but out of 10 times, there would be 6 times where it would be her boyfriend eying me."

"So you think it's only karma that the story is repeating again with your girlfriend?" I ask.

"Yeah, you know…" she tilts her head a bit with a pout. "The thing is that… I guess I thought we'd get pass those situation once out of high school…" her words immediately call a song in the front of my mind.

I start to bob my head a bit and hum. I make an imaginary guitar in my hand and take the first verse. "Four years you think for sure…that's all you've got to endure…all the total dicks…all the stuck up chicks…so superficial, so immature…" I rise on my knees and keep singing. "Then when you graduate…you take a look around and you say 'hey wait'…this is the same as where I just came from…I thought it was over…aw that's just great…"

I punk rock harder and start moving like a hyperactive kid on crack. I make a jump from my knees into a standing position and grab my imaginary microphone. "The whole damn world is just as obsessed…with who's the best dressed and who's having sex…who's got the money, who gets the honeys…who's kinda cute and who's just a mess…" I make funny faces, trying to impersonate the lyrics, then I take back my air guitar.

Cath is on her knees making the groupie singing along.

"…and you still don't have the right look…and you don't have the right friends…nothing changes but the faces, the names, and the trends…" I sing harder. "High school never ends!" I stick out my tongue and raise my air guitar.

Cath cheers and whistles when I salute and make the rock horns with my hands. "Thank you, you've been a great crowd," I say before letting myself bounce on the bed to lie down again.

"Well I'm sure glad to see that my misery makes you sing," she states and I can smother my laugh. "Yeah, I appreciate your empathy.

I rearrange our position so she's lying in my arms with her head on my shoulder. "Oh come on, don't pout."

She snuggles closer to me, and finds a cosier position. We stay like this, silent, just enjoying the comfort of our embrace.

She sighs. "I hate that I'm not talking to my sister, that we're not getting along… I know it's up to me, but I hate the situation. I know that eventually I'll have to talk to her, and maybe accept her relationship with Julianne, should they decide to pursue it. Lovers come and go, but she is and will always be my baby sister no matter what, so I got to grow up and talk to her, and maybe we'll fix things up again, like we would when we were younger."

"I'm sure that she wants that too… for you two to find a way to fix things between the two of you. I don't think it'll be any easier in time, so you might as well go to her now or tomorrow or the day after. Take things slowly, tell her how you feel and all…"

"Yeah… you're probably right… I guess I'll have to suck it up," she says with a sigh. "Being a grown up sucks," she groans.

"Yeah, like… totally," I reply in a teenage way.

We laugh again and then change topic, still in each other's arms.

xxxxx

I'm startled by the sound of a door being slammed followed by another shortly after. I need a few seconds to situate myself. Cath and I must have dozed off at some point. I look at my watch to check the time and slowly realize why the door slammed shut.

"Cath…" I mumble.

She must understand that as my request for her to shift position so she rolls away from me but keeps sleeping.

"Linds is home," I add.

There's a short silence during which we both process the information.

"Dibs!" she exclaims sleepily before turning to me.

"Oh come on…"

How does she do that? She was asleep a minute and yet she managed to be quicker than me to realize that today was Tuesday so Linds has basket ball practice.

"Yeah, yeah… get out and let me enjoy my ten extra minutes…" she lazily says before adjusting her position in the bed. Since she called the dibs, I'm going to make a snack to Linds and help her with any homework she might have while Cath will relax and later drive her to practice.

"I hate you," I mutter.

"No, you don't," she mumbles before falling asleep again.

I exit the bedroom and stretch myself with a yawn. I cross Lindsey in the corridor as she comes out of her room.

"Hey Cookie," I ruffle her hair. She pretends to be irritated and groans, before sticking her tongue at me. We walk together to the kitchen.

"Pillow therapy turned into a nap?" she asks while she sits at the kitchen table.

"Yup," I agree. "So what do you want for snack Cookie?" We – Brenda, Catherine and I, gave her that nickname in reference of her still not so great cooking skills.

She chuckles "I guess mom called the dibs again."

"You got that right."

"I'll have a cinnamon special," she informs me.

"Coming right up," I reply and then start to gather what I need. "Do you have any homework you need help with?"

"No, one of my teachers wasn't there, so I've already done them at the library. You can check them though."

"Sure thing."

"Proud people breed sad sorrows for themselves," Linds says after a moment.

Like her mother, Linds loves to read, she does have an amazing abilities to memorize whatever she reads. So we came up with this game, one of us make a quote and the other has to guess either the title or the author, the best player out of six quotes win.

"Easy… the Wuthering Heights," I answer with a grin. My back is facing her as I'm blending the ingredients.

"Okay… let's see…" Linds hums. "It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to, than I have ever known."

"Ugh… Byron?"

"Nope, but you could say contemporary," she gives me a hint.

"Contemporary?" I turn to Lindsey, and frown.

"In a way…"

I pout a bit and shake my head, not finding the author or the title of the novel she's quoting.

She chuckles "But, tears were not the things to find their way to Mr. Bumble's soul; his heart was waterproof."

"Oh! Dickens," I snap my fingers and groan.

"Alright next one…" she thinks for a second or two. "There is nothing new under the sun. It has all been done before."

"Too easy, _A Study in Scarlet_, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle," I reply immediately. "Crime knows no secrets from me, even in literature."

"The agony of my feelings allowed me no respite; no incident occurred from which my rage and misery could not extract its food…"

"Oh… tortured soul…" I say preparing the pan. "Poe?"

"Wrong!"

"Twain?"

"Twain, tortured?… Gee you're bad today."

"Hey!" I throw a rag at her which she avoids.

"It's alive!" she makes a monster voice.

"Frankenstein, Shelley."

"It is impossible to say how the first idea entered my brain; but once conceived, it haunted me day and night," she quotes.

"Poe, _The_ _Tell-Tale heart_," I'm quick to answer, but yet I feel like she gave me an easy one.

"His friends were those of his own blood or those whom he had known the longest; his affections, like ivy, were the growth of time, they implied no aptness in the object."

"I'm not even going to try this one," I forfeit.

"Robert Louis Stevenson," she sticks her tongue at me.

I lean against the counter and wait for the pan to be hot. Cath walks in and stretched herself, letting out a moan mingle with a sigh. She wraps her arms around Linds' shoulders from being and kisses her crown.

"Hey baby."

"Hey mom."

Cath keeps hugging her daughter a little bit longer, enjoying the closeness. In the meantime I'm starting to make small cinnamon pancakes.

"Oh I'll have some of what you're baking," Cath tells me. "So what's the score?"

"Tie, 3 points each," Linds reply.

"There you go," I put a plate in front of each them. They both have two small pancakes and the half of an apple.

It's funny, because Catherine and I have actually built some kind domestic life. It's weird and at the same time comforting.

We keep talking until it's time to go. I let them go to practice while I go back to my place to get ready for work.

xxxxx

I'm on my balcony, watching the city, trying to gather my thoughts. It's been four days since I've last spoke to Greg, it's been long and painful. He respected my wishes and went out of his way so we wouldn't cross paths at work, but lucky us we didn't have to work on the same case anyway.

I couldn't take anymore of this though, so I called him in order to finish our last conversation. If I'm honest to myself I'm apprehensive, because I realize that our relationship as a couple is holding to the proverbial thread.

I take a deep breath and go back in when I hear the locks of the front door being turned. Greg comes in and locks behind him. I take a deep breath and seat down on the couch, turning my back to him.

I know, just by the sounds he makes that he drops his backpack at the foot of the wall in the entrance; I know that he takes off his jacket and hangs; puts his wallet out and keys on the small sideboard; how of habit he rubs his palms on the side of his thighs as if to soften the fabric of his pants, and though I can't see him right now I know he ruffles the hair on the back of his neck also out of habit, before coming to seat next to me, but leaving some distance between us.

One would say that intimacy means to be physically close to someone, in my opinion it starts the moment you can recognize someone only with their habits and the sound they make as they move around in a room. It hadn't hit me until now how intimate I had became with Greg and how much I didn't want to give that away.

We smile shyly at each other. "Hey," he whispers.

We stay silent, probably not knowing how to pick up where we left off.

"You know how… some people think they know everything, that the way they do thing is the only right one…" he starts. I don't say anything but I don't see where he's going with that. "…my cousin Luka… he proposed to his girlfriend two weeks after meeting her."

"How did that work for him?" I frown.

"He's been happily married for the past eight years."

"That's good for your cousin, but…"

"Wait, I'm not done… you see I've spent an entire afternoon listening to him telling me how if after seven months I couldn't tell that you were the one then it meant that our relationship was failing… that if after so much time I couldn't see a future in it then it meant that there wasn't any to begin with… and so on… because in his mind and based on his experience, I quote, 'you just know these things right away'…"

I pinch the bridge of my nose, I'm not sure I like what I'm hearing, and I'm even more apprehensive of what may come after that.

"According to him we shouldn't be together and our couple is nothing but a failure in the making…" I look away and bite my tongue, determined to let him get his piece out. "The other day… I was an idiot for thinking for a mere moment that he might be right. We are nothing like him and his wife and our couple might be classified as 'wrong' in his book, but fuck him," he says firmly.

He moves closer to me and grabs my hand. "I don't know where we'll be 10 years from now or even 3 days from now, but truth to be told I don't want to… because that's not how we are, this uncertainty, it's how we work. Everything is always spontaneous between us… we've never make plans in the past and I don't want us to start, because I like the idea of figuring things out with you as they come at us… the last seven months have been the greatest for me and I wouldn't change them for anything…"

"You've hurt me Rus," I confess honestly. The use of his nickname though is an indication that I want to work things out. Now I understand where he came from the other day, the hurt is still there, but at least I know the problem didn't actually come from us.

"I know. And I also know that I've broken something between us that won't ever be completely fixed…I'm an idiot who sometimes lets panic get the best of him…" he moves even closer to me and squeezes my hand. "But I love being with you, I love how things work between us, but most of all I'm in love with you… I am so sorry that I hurt you, and if you're willing to put up with me then I'd like for us to get back on track."

He looks at me intently, conscious that he put the fate of our relationship between my hands.

"You are an idiot," I confirm before cupping his cheek. "But I still want you to be _my_ idiot," I grin shyly. He smiles in relief and rests his forehead against mine.

I deliver a lingering sweet kiss on his lips. "I love you too," I tell him.

It's funny because I've said those words to him on several occasions when we were just friends, after sharing really emotional moments or just in a joking way. Yet it's the first time that I admit out loud having feeling for him as a significant other.

We hug each other tightly, assuage that we found our way through our crisis.

* * *

**I know it doesn't look like it but it is (sadly in my opinion) the beginning of the end for Sara and Greg ****for they won't make it out of Sara's next chapter. **

**Quotes:**

"Proud people breed sad sorrows for themselves"_Withering Hights_** – E. Brontë**

"It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to, than I have ever known."_A Tale of Two cities – _

"But, tears were not the things to find their way to Mr. Bumble's soul; his heart was waterproof"_Oliver Twist_** – **

"There is nothing new under the sun. It has all been done before." _A Study in Scarlet_** – Sir Arthur Conan Doyle**

"The agony of my feelings allowed me no respite; no incident occurred from which my rage and misery could not extract its food…" _Frankenstein_** – M. Shelley **

"His friends were those of his own blood or those whom he had known the longest; his affections, like ivy, were the growth of time, they implied no aptness in the object." _The strange case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde_**– R. L. Stevenson**

**Song:**_ High school never ends_ by** Bowling for Soup  
**

**Thanks for reading  
**


	28. Chapter 28

**Hey everyone, first of all thank you for your reviews, here's the new chap, now I'm warning you it's quite long.**

**Enjoy,**

**So ;)**

**Ps: **Immi** thank you very much for pointing out the details I had missed :)**

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 28**

_Catherine's POV_

"I've missed you," Nancy finally speaks after looking everywhere but at me for the last ten minutes.

We haven't spoken to each other for exactly 51 days, and it was unbearable, so I decided to grow up again and face our issue.

"I needed time on my own," I reply flatly.

"Cath… I can't begin to express how sorry I am for this whole situation…" she starts with a pitiful expression.

"You're going to have to do better than this, because it seems that you can't actually begin to measure the extent of my anger either," my voice is sharp but I'm keeping my temper in check.

"I am truly sorry that I hurt you…"

"Sorry isn't enough, it's lame Nance," I cut her off once more. "If you had feeling for Julianne, why encouraging me to go out with her to being with? You see, that's what I don't get."

"I didn't… it's complicated…" she struggles.

"I've got time, so try harder."

I should cool off, after all Nancy isn't the only one to blame. Generally speaking, I'm not one to be clement when hurt, angry or both, I'm already proud of myself for actually speaking to her, and not screaming irrationally.

She takes a deep breath then speaks. "Before you met Julianne, her and I were very close. She came on to me and I wasn't interested and with time it became more of a joke between us than anything…" she starts. "One day after going out she kissed me out of the blue… and as I told you back then there wasn't any spark…"

"Right…" I can't hold back a snort.

"It's true!" Nancy protest with a pain filled look.

I avert my eyes and temper myself again. I want to hear what she has to say, I'm burning to know even but at the same time it pisses me off to hear all the details explaining of why I've been screwed over.

"At the time, I really thought you two would get along…" Nancy continues after a moment with a slightly wavering voice. She swallows a sip of her coffee and clears her throat. "You two got together… and then… sometimes you'd treat her bad…"

"Oh right it's my fault, I'm a freaking awful person…"

"That's not…" she trails off and holds herself back from raising her voice. "It pissed me off… how things would go between the two of you, how sometimes you'd hurt her without even noticing… because your relationship was rocky, her and I got even closer… and I realized that I wasn't pissed off because you were hurting my friend… at least not only because of that… I was pissed because I was jealous…" she looks at me briefly.

She waits, probably expecting some words from me but I can't think of anything except that I'm pissed off.

"When she kissed me… I panicked and I refused myself to think anything about it. But seeing her with you made me long to be in your place… to get my chance back…"

"Yeah I got it," I cut her off not sure of how much I'll be able to take in. "How long did the two of you went on behind my back?"

"Nothing happened until the kiss you saw and that one wasn't meant to happen either… I swear Cath, nothing happened before."

I should feel relieved; after all it was just a kiss. I don't though, I think I wouldn't have been hurt as much if Julianne had just fucked someone else for the sake of it. The reason I'm so pissed and bruised in my ego is because there were feeling between Julianne and Nancy, and even if nothing happened before that night they kissed 51 days ago, they have been emotionally involved for longer than that. They've been making a fool out of me for longer than that and I can't say I'm overjoyed about it.

"Alright," I simply say. "You're dating her?"

"You know me better…"

"Just like you knew better than to kiss my girlfriend?" I snap back sharply.

She looks away once again, I see her tremors running through her, but she breathes deep again not allowing herself to cry "You know what? I deserve that, I deserve your anger and more. I feel like crap for what I did… now if you want to make me feel even crappier, go ahead, but please do it in one go," she defends herself. "I am sorry for everything, and it doesn't matter how many times I'll say it, it won't change a thing. I'm not interested in fighting with you. It kills me when we don't get along but I'll understand if you need time…" the trails off shaking her head. "I understand _that_ you need time to trust me again, and for us to have a good relationship again, and I'll deal with it. But I can't take you being mean just for the sake of it."

I clench my jaw to temper myself, otherwise I'd _really_ be mean but that's not the point of that meeting.

"So… are you two dating now?" I repeat my previous question with a steady voice.

"No, we're not," she replies firmly.

"But you're still seeing each other," I state more than ask. Nancy simply sighs and looks away confirming my assumption.

"Look, I won't lie. I want to fix this mess between us, and I understand that she's in your life no matter what," I don't dare speak _her_–who-shall-not-be-named full name or I'll lose the little calm I managed to acquire. "It'll take time for me to come around and trust you, but we'll manage. We always did, and that's not going to change. You're my sister and I love you, even though at the moment I'm still really mad. So let's just take thing slow."

She nods knowing that she's not in the bargaining position. After a long silence, and realizing that we didn't have anything to add, she offers to leave and I let her.

It might seems that I'm easy to forgive her considering what happened; but as I said to Sara this isn't the first time that we've been in this situation and it happened more than once that it went beyond the simple kiss; my point is that we've always managed to move on and today won't be different. There's one thing my parents taught us, our siblings will stay our siblings no matter what happen, so we might as well learn to live with each other, accept each other's faults, and to forgive each other's mistakes.

I sigh heavily when I close the door behind Nancy. That was the hardest part and the most important one, I still have to face that two faced b… I mean, I still need to talk to her-who-shall-not-be-named, since we are bound to cross each other's path one day or another we might as well make everything to stay civil with one another.

xxxxx

I have thought about meeting Julianne in a neutral place such as a diner or a coffee house, then thinking harder about how angry I was I thought that if I was about to declare WWIII it'd be better in the confinement of my house.

Since I still had some of her belongings in my house I used that as an excuse to make her come. Now that she's standing in my threshold I'm thinking that maybe the whole 'talking to her to clear the air' might have been the worse idea I've had yet.

I just move aside so she can enter my house. I take a few deep cleansing breaths to temper myself before facing her.

"I put everything on the couch," I inform her even though she can see it for herself.

"We both know it's not just about getting my things back. If it was, you'd have let it at your sister without even bothering to see me."

I have to give her some credit, she did learn a few things about me during our time together. It's true if it was only about giving her back her belongings, I wouldn't have bothered, I'd probably have thrown everything to be honest – I gave up burning things a long time ago, besides I don't want my neighbours to think I'm a psycho.

"Let's cut through the chase then," I say coldly.

She sighs. "I should have end things between us when I knew that my feelings for Nancy were stronger than the one I could have for you would ever be."

"Oh yeah because using me before that epiphany was still okay," I snap back.

"I know my primary motive was despicable and there's no excuse for it, but when we got together I truly thought I'd get over Nancy. And I involved myself in this relationship."

"Oh please there was no relationship, you just used me as a cheap slut. I mean, why not have sex for free while waiting for my sister to fall for you?" I almost shout. "The only one to have been fooled into thinking that we were in a relationship is me, and I'm the only one who has made everything to make it work."

She laughs boisterously with obvious sarcasm. "Let me laugh, can you run that one by me again? _You_ were the only one to have worked on our relationship? Are you fucking kidding me?" she asks dryly, her behaviour is like a sparkle into a barrel full of powder, it fuel my wrath and I have a hard time finding a reason to hold it back.

"At least _I_ didn't use you!"

"Oh right… you spent 80 per cent of the time being distant, cold and bitchy for no reason; you changed your moods every seconds; you'd start up fight just for the sake of it; oh and by the way during the last times we were intimate you happened to mumble a name that wasn't mine, so give me a fucking break!"

"I told you that I needed to take things slowly…" I start to defend myself not liking her insinuations.

"Please, cut the bullshit!" she emphasizes the last word. "The only reason I put up with your shitty attitude was probably because deep down I knew it wouldn't work and that my heart wasn't in it."

"Fuck you…"

She goes on as if she hadn't heard me. "Yes I've done wrong by kissing Nancy, yes I should have broken up with you the moment I realized that I was too in love with her to actually be with you. I've been wrong and even your behaviour doesn't justifies my action, but at least I'm an adult about it and I acknowledge that my wrongs. So grow up Catherine and stop insulting my intelligence. You weren't in this relationship any more than I was, so have the courtesy to admit it!"

"I was in this relationship, you fooled me and you screwed me over. You want me to take the blame fine, if that makes you feel better. You're still the heartless user, and you're so fucking immature on top of it," I come back vehemently. I snort and shale my head. "I don't know why I fucking bothered, why I thought that somehow this would help. Get your things and get the fuck out of here, I can't take any more of _your_ bullshit."

She chortles humourlessly. "Right, you can't even be honest with yourself, and I'm the immature one?" she rolls her eyes exasperatedly. "Whatever."

She grabs her belongings on the couch and leaves without so much as a goodbye, she does slam my door however.

I groan out of frustration, I swear if I hadn't left my gun in my locker…

Right but giving into my frustration would mean finding a way to get rid of her body, which mean tedious extra hours in her presence when I can barely stand her right now…

On a second thought maybe it's a good thing that my gun is where it should be…

xxxxx

I'm banging my fist so hard against the door in front of me that I might actually break a hole in it. I stop myself short from hitting Adam when he opens the door suddenly. I don't give him a chance to say anything and just make my way in, half bumping into him when he doesn't step aside fast enough.

I discard my vest in a swift movement and send it on the couch before starting to pace furiously. Adam seems to be caught up in a slow motion and simply walk to his armchair, sits down, picks up a notebook in which he starts writing.

"Fuck you!" I let out with fury, his head snaps up in my direction. "Fuck you Adam!" I elaborate in case he dares asking who I'm addressing to.

I groan but don't stop pacing, he just looks at me calmly waiting for me to go on. "You fucking ruined everything! You have to, _have to_, learn to keep your mouth shut! You ruined it all. You and your little mind game, you made the fucking dam broke and I can never be the same! Nothing can be the same, you ruined it, you ruined me!" my voice is raising as I speak.

Adam keeps on looking at me with that calm and passivity which only doesn't do anything to dissuade me to go berserk on him.

"Don't you just stay there looking at me with your dead goldfish expression!" I reproach him in vain. I sigh. "To thine one self be true!"

"Shakespeare," he simply replies.

"Shakespeare," I repeat with a childish shake of my head and a petty voice.

"So, someone took the feeling of home away from you," he immediately get on track. I should be impressed that he remembers so well what conversation led us to his quote in the first place.

"I could have been fine with Julianne, everything could have worked great, we could have make the best of the situation, I could have kept on pretending that we were good together but…" I keep on ignoring his question.

"But Julianne took the feeling away from you?"

"No, she never made me feel anything close to home to begin with," I frown and look at him with exasperation.

"Who took the feeling away from you?"

"It doesn't matter who, the matter is that they took it away!"

I hate when he gets sidetrack like that but, I've learnt to go along with him because once he has an idea he doesn't let it go until he got the answers he's looking for. I'm even angrier not to be able to rant in peace.

"How did you feel then?"

"Worthless… and angry and hurt…and…" I struggle to express myself.

"Julianne was a good way to prove that you are worth it," he says after a moment.

"I didn't say that… it… you make it sound like I used her," I protest.

"Isn't it what you did?"

"No! No! I didn't, if anything she used me to get to my sister! I'm the one who got screwed over here!" I snap. "All the time she was with me… she was pretending to want to be with me only to get my sister jealous… from day one she wanted Nancy, not me! She used me!" I stress out.

"You used each other, she's just the first one to have been exposed," he states with that tone I can't stand meaning that he's right, meaning that whatever he's saying should have been obvious to me.

"I didn't use her!" I repeat through clenched teeth.

"Of course you didn't, you just 'pretended' that you wanted to be with her," he replies with fake empathy.

"Adam, I don't think you realize how much I want to punch you right now," I warn him. My fists are balled so tight my knuckles are hurting.

"Feel free, I won't even move so you won't miss," he invites me to give into my impulse.

I think this is the first time Adam has been so cold with me… no, he's usually cold and collected, but for the first time he's openly belligerent, which doesn't sit well with me right now.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" I ask, genuinely intrigued as to why he's the way he is today.

"I could ask you the same," he simply shrugs.

I snort. "What… you know… oh whatever, I'm out of here… I don't need attitude from you of all people," I shake my head and turn around to get my jacket.

"Grow up Catherine," Adam's deep voice resounds, stopping me on my tracks. I turn to him ready to snap at him, my words die in my throat though when I see the steel cold expression on his face. I can feel a shiver running down my spine. "Every time you cross that door to step into my office I want you to grow up. We've discussed that point during our first sessions," his voice is steady and even, but I feel like he was shouting at me.

Adam, never lost his temper with me before. Admittedly it's hard to call his behaviour now a lost of temper, but there a latent aggressiveness in his voice.

"I'm challenging you right now, either your grow up and we might keep on talking through whatever's bothering you; or you don't, but in that case make your way out. I'm not your baby sitter, I'm not your friend with shoulder to cry on, I'm your shrink."

Not only I don't like being challenge, but there's one thing I hate, something I never – and I do mean _never_, let slide; something Adam just did. I never, ever, let any one talk me down. I was angry before, I'm now boiling at volcanic temperatures.

Adam and I are engaged in a staring contest and he's looking at me just as fiercely and violently as I'm looking at him.

I'm breathing slowly and heavily not to lose my temper, that would be admitting defeat right now, and I never do that.

"You said, and I quote 'I could have kept on pretending that we were good together'. Face it Catherine, you used her, just like she used you," he gets back on track. "I'll give you that, your motives weren't as bad as hers, but the result's the same."

"No, the results aren't the same. She used me while being aware of it, from day one."

"I could have _kept on_ pretending," he repeats.

"Stop that," I warn him.

"Your words, not mine, operative words 'kept on'. You knew from the beginning that Julianne was nothing but a tool to distract you from your pain."

I shake my head. "I'm not like that."

"So you're telling me that the relationship was a smooth ride up until the point you made sense of the quote?" he asks with a still even voice. "I'm sure that you didn't fight your way out and yet held on to make people believe that you wanted that relationship; that you didn't find any reason to justify your lack of commitment such as not being ready…"

"Shut up," I say with a low, menacing voice.

"Oh come on, you can do better than this," he dares me.

"It wasn't like that… I… I didn't…"

"You didn't use her," he cuts me off. "You didn't use her, in fact you just pretended that the two of you were good for one another… up until the quote shoved back your lie so far down your throat that you couldn't breathe and had to admit to yourself something that you already knew, you were using Julianne."

I've seen caring Adam, I've seen joking Adam, I've seen childish Adam, I've seen perceptive Adam, I've seen quiet and understanding Adam… I've never seen this Adam though, the confrontational one, the one not making any prisoner and going straight to the jugular.

"You see, Catherine, you knew what you were doing from the beginning, and just like Julianne you put a lot of effort into hiding the truth to yourself and to the other; because pretending and using people takes a lot of energy."

The pressure my jaw is hurting me, yet I can't find anything to say that wouldn't be a blatant lie.

"One will tell you that had you been honest you'd have spared yourself all this waste of energy. Truth to be told honesty is even more demanding," even though his expression never changed it's like the dark halo that had risen around him is now disappearing.

"You can keep on lying to yourself, after all you're already on tracks and that way you'll always be right. Or, as I suggested earlier you can grow up and face your responsibilities, be honest with yourself."

I shoot into the coffee table which falls on its side. It's all I can do not to give into my urge to hit Asshole Adams. I grab my jacket and dash out of his office, never planning on returning ever again.

I don't know what bug crawled up his ass, but damn it made a jackass out of him.

xxxxx

I haven't slept in two whole days, to upset at my last encounter with Adam. A part of me is not upset at Adam though, that part – that _tiny_ part – realizes that I probably needed his attitude. I don't know Adam, but I've understood that every single move on his part was deliberate, whether it's to push us in a direction, force us to face an issue or to let things slide. He never does anything randomly, proof is with his quote, it was probably his warning about me not being honest with myself.

Even though I know Adam was well aware of what he did, it doesn't change the fact that I'm resenting him for doing it.

It's pouring rain when I walk to my car, once inside strapped and ready, I turn on the ignition and start what promise to be a long journey.

When I'm pounding onto Adam's door, it feels like déjà vu, only this time I'm under pouring rain. Adam opens the door and show no expression whatsoever – for a change.

I'm looking at him with fury, breathing deeply to stay in control of everything. "Don't ever handle me like you did again," I half warn, half threat him.

"Catherine, come on inside, you're going to catch a cold."

"Did you hear me?" I ignore him, I don't want his sympathy.

"You know I'll do it again if I deem that I have to. This is therapy, it's not about letting you hear what you want to hear; growing, and learning can be violent and painful."

I don't think I'll ever win an argument with him. I know that if I'm upset today, some day not too far from now I'll understand and agree with him, so there's no use to fight back, I've lost.

"That's that, then" I mutter to myself."

"Are you sure you don't want to come inside and have a cup of tea?"

"No, I might shove it down your throat out of frustration." I tell him honestly, sparing a last glance in his direction before walking away. I walk back to my car and head to my second destination.

It's only thirty minutes before I park my car in Julianne's driveway. It's funny, but until today I hadn't realized how little I had come around. This must be the third time I'm in front of her door. All this time we've spend together, she was always coming at my place, picking me up. That probably says much about our relationship, and the lack of need to be together all the time, or at all.

I knock firmly before the thought of going back on my tracks crosses my mind. When the door opens and I can see that Julianne is taken aback with my presence. She doesn't say anything and just steps aside so I can come in, I hesitate a moment but then decide against going in, it's still raining and I'm slightly frozen, yet I prefer to stay outside – maybe I'm afraid that I'll leave a body behind me rather than a living person that I loathe.

"Do you love her?" I ask.

"What?"

"Nancy, do you love her?" I elaborate slowly.

"Why do you care?"

"Answer."

"I do."

"You screwed me over, that's one thing… I'll deal. You screw her over… so help me I'll get rid of your body in such a way people will even forget that you ever existed," I threat her seriously.

"Don't threat me."

"Don't tempt me," I come back firmly.

She smirks humourlessly. "You're telling me that after all that happened you'd be okay with me dating Nancy?"

I snort and reflexively lick the rain drops off my upper lip. "No. I'm saying that I've been fucked over, might as well make sure it wasn't only for the sake of it."

"Why would you do that for me?"

"I'm not doing anything for you. It's for my sister."

Julianne nods lightly and looks away.

"I'm not joking Julianne, you hurt her and I kill you."

"I won't," she eventually says flatly.

Since that's all I needed to hear I turn around to walk back to my car. "I take it that's your way to admit that I was right the other day without actually admitting that you were wrong," Julianne's voice rings again.

I send her a dark glare. "I advice you to play dead whenever we must be around one another, and maybe, just _maybe_, with time I might begin to tolerate your presence again," I simply reply before walking away.

When I climb in my car again I can feel the seat becoming moist with all the rain I bring in. I rest my head a bit and close my eyes. I pass a hand over my wet face and then turn on the ignition. Two down, one more to go.

After another short ride, I give myself five minutes to compose myself before walking to the last door. Nancy opens quickly and I walk in without giving her a chance to say anything.

I pass a hand over my face and push my wet bangs away from it. I take a slow and deep breath. "I've just spoken to Julianne…"

"Cath…"

"No, you let me talk," I order. "My feelings are mine to deal with, if you want to be with her, if you need to be with her, then be with her, and with time I'll learn to get along with her again."

"Cath…"

"Nance… I still need time but I'll come around, and that's the first step," I finish. "I sure hope she's worth it," I add before walking to the door. I grab the knob and open the door when Nancy speaks again.

"Why?"

"I don't know… It doesn't matter…" I simply shrug before walking away.

Why?

Good question. Why am I so magnanimous after everything that happened?

Maybe it's to prove Adam wrong, maybe it's to prove myself that he's wrong or maybe it's just my way to change my wrongs into something right. I suppose it doesn't really matter, not anymore than I care. My anger, my bruised feelings, my hurt… they're still here and will stay here for a long time no matter what, just like the fact that I did use Julianne.

When I'm parked at my fourth destination, sitting in my seat, eyes closed, head against the head rest, still moist from the rain; it's only then that I realize how drained I feel. It shouldn't come as a surprise, after all I've chosen to wage all my battles in one go, so I wouldn't give myself time to find reasons or excuse to back away and leave things to the way they are.

My hands are crisped on the steering wheel, I can think of many reasons why I shouldn't be where I am right now; why I should start standing on my own two feet without always leaning on someone. It doesn't matter though, there's a deeper, more primal instinct in me telling me this is exactly where I want and need to be.

I exit my car and march to my destination with determination. I knock firmly, wishing that there's someone in and at the same time that there's no one in.

"Hey, Cath," Sara greets me with a grin, immediately inviting me inside.

I grin shyly, and walk in. "I hope it's not a bad time," I declare.

"It never is," she reassures me.

"I…"

I've been honest with myself, I've faced my issues and since I'm on a streak I thought that I should probably tell her the truth. I should tell her that she took the feeling of home away from me, that I have feelings for her…

Yeah, and then what?

I'd jeopardize everything that we've manage to build, this closeness we have, this affection we share, and for what? She'll tell me she's flattered but that she loves Greg, 'thank you, but no'…

It's not just about me. It's about the both of us, and I have too much to lose. She's happy with Greg, of course they've had a fall out a few days ago but they work it through and if anything they seem even better together, so except humiliation and kissing everything Sara and I share goodbye, nothing good would come out of me telling her what's weighting on my chest.

Besides I'm honest with myself, I have feelings for Sara and I want her to make me feel home again. I've had my chance to tell her this, at least about the feeling home part, but I ran the other way rather than face her about it.

Now…

Now I have no right to confront her with my feelings, I have no right to ask any more from her than what we have.

"I… wanted to talk to you…" I say with uncertainty.

When I first realize that I had feelings for her, back in the tent we shared in the middle of nowhere during our outdoor trip with Adam, it hurts because the timing was wrong for such an epiphany and I put those feelings at rest – or so I thought. Now everything is messy on my side, but she's happy with what she has and I can't ruin that for her.

As I said to Nancy, my feelings are mine to deal with. I missed my opportunity with Sara, so I have to accept it and enjoy what I have.

"Cath… what is it? Is something wrong?" she asks me with concern.

I love you.

I love you, I declare in my head again, but that's not wrong.

"I…" I clear my throat and shake my thoughts back in order. "I just had a long day and…" my emotions all spill at once and threaten to choke me.

Sara wordlessly wraps her arms around me which only overwhelms me and I start to cry, closing my fists on her clothes. I'm probably crying for how messy everything is, but I'm also crying for what I yearn for and yet will never be.

She doesn't say anything and just holds me back tightly. For the next hours when we lie in each other arms – and when I've cried my heart out – I abandon myself to the comfort her embrace provides, I find some peace of mind and even tell myself that I can feel a little love there, platonic love, but love nonetheless.

xxxxx

"Good evening everyone," Grissom greets us as he walks into the meeting room. "I have great news tonight," he smiles genuinely.

Tonight Grissom insisted on gathering us, we've been all joking around while waiting for him. It's really good to have a chance to have a moment all together. I mean lately we've been so busy with cases that we seldom had time to even share a coffee, so we've enjoyed the past fifteen minutes. I know I'm grateful for it because I can't exactly say that my mood is on top at the moment.

"As you all know conferences season is coming," a symphony of groans resound in the room.

We all hate conference season, it means that one of us – the designated 'star player' – will be away for almost three months making conferences all over the country and publicity for our lab in the same occasion along with other members of the lab. The first time is fun, the next ones are just long and exhausting.

"I thought you said you had great news," Warrick states, to which we all agree with a chuckle.

"Kids come on, you know those conferences are…"

"Important for the lab," Nick starts.

"Beneficial for our careers," Sara adds

"Not to mention mandatory," Warrick chips on.

"And of course the personal experience," I join them.

"In fact, think about it as a knowledge building experience," Greg finishes.

We've heard this speech so many times that we can actually give it back to him by heart.

"Your speech is getting old," Nick jokes.

"Or maybe it's our boss," Sara adds and we all laugh.

Grissom laughs as well. "I'm glad to see that you're in shape Sara, because you are our star player this year," he precise.

Sara's smiling feature immediately morphs into a lost puppy expression. "Oh come on! I was just joking!" she whines. Her childish behaviour only serves to double our laughter. "Nicky joked too!" she points out.

Nick raised his hand in surrender "Never joke on the boss, sis," he laughs at her.

"Nicky boy's right," Grissom pursues with a shit eating grin. "Joke aside, you were already chosen, your joke just gave me a good opportunity to break the news to you."

Sara pouts and shrinks a bit into her chair, though I feel her displease, she's looking too cute and too funny right now for me to show any sympathy – that and I'm too busy laughing.

"Conference aside, all your applications for seminars came back positive and what's more, the schedule works for everyone," Griss declares, and a series of cheers erupts from our small group. "I know, it's a first for the graveyard shift," he smiles happily.

"Now, now, calm down everyone, let's quickly review the last cases, the last trials and such, then I'll give you your assignments," Grissom becomes serious again.

xxxxx

If I was laughing when Grissom broke the news to us, I'm not laughing anymore. Sara has been away for the most of two weeks and each time she was there we barely had time together. I understand that Greg is naturally the first person she goes to see, but I really feel in a needy state. I mean the conference season couldn't have fallen at a worse time, I'm depressed and in serious need of a friend… no I'm in need to talk things with Sara, to have pillow therapy with her.

Therapy literally made it hard for me to talk to anyone else other than Sara. Sure I can talk to Warrick, or Nick, but it's different. Nancy is out for the moment and Greg… well let's not go down that road.

It just doesn't matter how much effort I make, I'm always upset with Greg. I'm really good at hiding it though, but if I'm honest the whole 'I'm dating Sara' pill is still lodge in my throat. Of course I've accepted their relationship and even came back to teasing Greg here and there, but I keep my interaction with him to a quota so as not to be inappropriately bitchy.

The phone rings and I'm hoping that it's not Grissom asking to come back in because I'm really not up for another shift so soon.

"Willows," I reply dryly.

"_Did I wake you up?"_ Sara's voice fills the receiver.

"No, not at all," I reply immediately, all trace of fatigue immediately leave me, I relax in my bed once more.

I haven't been able to rest properly since the last time I was in Sara's arms about three weeks ago. My mind is running all the time, at best I doze off, at worse I just drug myself with coffee.

"Is everything okay?" I ask her after a pause.

"_Yeah don't worry. I just… wanted to take some news. We haven't seen each other much with me being away and all… and… well… I miss our time together,_" she confesses shyly.

"Me too," I tell her.

"_How are you?_"

"Well…"

"_Honestly,_" she adds.

"In that case, I've known better."

"_Things are still tensed with Nancy?_"

"Yeah… and I think the whole thing is still too fresh. I'm not even angry at her and Julianne, and I'm okay with them being together… I'm just mad at myself for the way I handled things and how I didn't know… anyway, we've talked about it already, nothing has changed since," I cut my own rambling.

"_We can talk about it as many times as you want._"

"What about you? How are you, and how's the conference's going?"

"_I'm alright, a bit tired because my lecture lasted longer than expected and then the students wouldn't stop debating. It was really interesting though._"

She proceeds to give me details about her conference, about the lectures and the new 'toys' she had the chance to try – new toys which hopefully will one day help us on the field.

"I've always known that you were a closeted geek," I chuckle at her excited voice when she speaks of the toys.

"_Oh no, I've been out for a long time, I've learnt to embrace and appreciate my inner geek,_" she comes back nonchalantly.

We both burst into laughter. She keeps the conversation flowing, making a conscious effort to distract me. She asks me about Linds, about everything and nothing; before we know it three hours have gone by.

"… _and he says 'if he makes it out, we'll call him MacGyver,_" Sara finishes her joke.

The silliness of it makes me laugh nonetheless. "This is a terrible joke, Sar…"

"_Maybe, but you're laughing._"

Once we're calm again I hear her yawn, I feel a little pressure on my chest knowing that our conversation is coming to an end.

"We should try to rest," I suggest yet I wish we could stay connected a little while longer.

"_Oh… I didn't notice it was so late…_" she sighs. "_I forgot to call Greg back…_" she adds as an after thought.

I feel a ball in my throat at the mere mention of _his_ name, for the past hours I had managed to erase him from the picture.

"Sorry, I kept you online so long," I apologize shyly.

"_Oh please don't be, besides I've had him on the phone once today, it's okay really._"

"Tanks for calling," I smile even though she can't see me. "And thanks for… everything."

"_Sure thing. I really wanted to talk with you a bit._"

"We're getting good at it," I state out of the blue.

"_At what?_"

"Communicating, talking… you know," I shrug.

"_That's_ _right. No surprise here though, we are the awesome twosome after all._"

I chortle. "That we are," I agree.

There's a brief silence and then another yawn. "_Morpheus is claiming me,_" she declares.

"I can hear that."

"_Nighty night Cath._"

"Goodnight Sar."

There's a pause before she hangs up. I put the phone receiver back on my nightstand and lie more comfortably in my bed, a smile is playing on my lips. I don't think I'll get any sleep right now, I'm way too euphoric for that, but frankly I don't care, I want to hold onto this sensation for as long as I can.

xxxxx

There's a knock at the door of my office. I push back my glasses a bit before inviting whoever's behind the door to come in.

"Are you done with your paperwork?" Greg's voice surprises me. I wasn't expecting him. Though our contacts are still the same we don't hang out as easily as before. He probably think that it's my way not to give away his relationship with Sara among the lab – I know I'm still the only one to know about their relationship.

"Almost. Is there anything you need?"

He closes the door behind him before facing me again "I was wondering if you had plans actually."

"Why?"

"I was thinking about surprising Sara by picking her up at the airport. Do you want to come along?" he asks me with a shy smile.

"Oh I don't know…" I'm trying to think quickly of an excuse.

"Come on, I'm sure Sara would be really happy to see us both, her week has been long and she was moody the last time I talked to her," he pouts a bit, he makes his puppy face which always, _always_ makes me grin against my will. When he sees my smile – sign that I caved in, he smiles brightly. "I'll be waiting for you on the parking lot in 30 minutes."

On the one hand I do want to see Sara, she has still a little more than a month of conference to go, and the past four weeks, we didn't manage to see each other at all. I miss her, I won't lie. On the other hand I don't want to intrude in their time.

Oh and to hell with it, Greg proposed and he said Sara would be glad to see me, those are reasons enough.

I finish filling my last papers and then rush myself to get my things and go before Grissom or anyone else get the idea to ask me anything that would imply having me staying over any longer. Greg is waiting for me where he said he would, he opens the passenger door for me, waits for me to be inside and secured before closing the door. Two minutes later we're on our way to Sara, my heart is beating harder in anticipation, I just can't wait.

"How are you?" I ask Greg when we hit the traffic.

"I'm good, you?"

"I'm alright."

"I…" he sighs and decides against voicing his thought.

"What?"

"Nothing…"

"Come on, you can tell me."

"I just… you know I've noticed that you've been a bit… down I'd say, lately I mean. I can only hope that things are alright… but if you ever want to talk… I'm a good listener…" he shrugs.

One of the things that make it hard to be constantly mad at Greg is the genuine care he has for his friends. I mean, it's not like he was a jerk, he's actually a very good kid, well man, and it's just impossible to be nasty toward him.

"Thanks."

"Sure," he grins and focuses on the road again. "Hey there's a board on the back and markers, how about finding something to write on it so Sara sees us?"

"Good idea."

After much debate we finally agree on what to write on the board. I enjoy myself and I think that while being too busy resenting him for being with Sara, I've missed out on how much fun he is. Besides, since he spends a lot of time with Linds, we have enough material never to find ourselves out of things to say.

"…time flies fast," I state with a sigh as I finish our conversation about Linds.

"Tell me about it, I was thinking exactly that because I've just realized that in almost four weeks it'll be one year that Sara and I are together."

"A year… wow…" that felt like a punch in the guts.

"Yeah…"

"So have you planned anything for the occasion," I recover from my shock quickly.

"Nope, I suck at plans… we'll see whatever strikes me then," he shrugs. "And here we are."

As he had predicted we have time to make it to the arrival section with a few minutes to spare. I've always loved the arrival section of the airport, it's probably one of the happiest place on Earth – at least most of the time.

When the monitors announce that the passengers from Sara's flight are coming Greg and I hold the board together in front of us. I can feel a tingling sensation running through my whole body, and a smile threatening to split my face as excitation slowly builds up.

I spot Sara's figure from afar. She's looking at the floor as she's walking, I can tell by her body language that she's tired. I know I want nothing more than to hold her in my arms right now, I can't barely hold still so much I'm craving for physical closeness.

She finally raise her head, she scans the room around and does a double take when she notices the board, then her eyes meet us and her face literally lights up. She walks to us and smile.

"SpongeBob," she reads the board.

"Yeah have you seen him?" Greg asks seriously and pretend to look behind Sara.

"No, I'm afraid Mr Bob had to cancel his trip, I'm the only one you'll get today unfortunately," she winces with a barely covered grin.

That's more than fine by me…

"Oh well," Greg sighs. "What do you think?" he asks me with a smirk.

"I'm disappointed," I play along and pout my lower lip out.

"Guess we'll have to go with the second best," he adds which earns him a light punch in the shoulder. "Hey that's not a way to treat the welcoming committee," he protests with a chuckle.

"Oh shut up," she replies before leaning in for a kiss.

At first they are both smiling in the kiss but then it quickly turn into something more emotional and intimate, so much that I have to look away because I feel like a voyeur. They're not open mouth kissing, just lip locking and yet, for the fraction of second that I was watching I could feel powerful feelings emanating from that simple gesture.

I think that until now it had never hit me that maybe they could really love each other, I mean as more then just friends. As much as I came to accept the fact that they were together, I think I never could conceive that it could be something serious. I just thought that they were enjoying the fun of being together just as a try out. You know, they are friends, it works, and once over the excitement of the novelty, they'd realized that they are just friends and that's it.

There was a time – from Sara's first year around up until probably the second, when you could tell that the opportunity for them to have something was evident, they were flirting, getting closer each time; but then time passed and you could see that they had reach a point of deep and caring friendship, so deep and strong that the concept of them together, in another context than 'brother/sister' dynamic, disappeared completely.

Then there's another thing, I've hung around with the both of them and they're seldom touchy with one another, in fact if I didn't know that they were together it would be hard to tell just by looking at them interact. That's also why nobody ever noticed anything about them.

Seeing the way they just kissed or are hugging each other right now I realize that they are actually in love with one another, truly in love. Unbelievable but true, they beat the odds.

I was so lost in my thoughts that I'm surprised when I feel myself being wrapped in a warm embrace. Sara's scent fills my nostrils and a wave of bliss spread through me; my arms instinctively snake their way around her waist.

"I'm so happy you're here too…" she speaks so close to my ear that her breath brushes against my skin, I tighten my grip on her to hide the shiver she just provoked. She steps back a little, and kisses my temple, I can feel a deep affection I'll dare call love, but nothing like the love she shares with Greg. "I missed you too," she adds kissing me once more before letting me go.

"I'm so happy to see you both, it's an excellent surprise," she jubilates again.

Greg grabs her bag and puts an arm around Sara's shoulders for a few seconds to invite her to move. We go back to her apartment, where Greg cooks for us all. We spend a good evening together, we laugh a lot and Sara gives us details on the last conferences she has attended to.

After much convincing, I'm invited to stay the night, I get Sara's bed while the two of them sleep on the couch. I can hear their muffled voices as they keep talking a bit. I turn on my side and smell the shirt Sara lent me to sleep in, the scent she left when she hugged me goodnight is still lingering on it. I hug the pillow next to me and eventually fall asleep.

The need to relieve my bladder wakes me up barely three hours later. Once that's done I go in the bathroom to freshen up, as I come out of it I hear muffled voices coming from the living room. I walk closer to see if everything's okay.

"…we could go there," Greg states.

"We got to go to Cali first and then wherever you want…"

I come closer and see them both sitting on the ledge of the window. Greg is leaning against the wall and Sara's sitting in between his legs, leaning against him. They're playing with each other's hands, entangling and untangling their fingers.

Greg nuzzles Sara's neck and kisses her sweetly. "You got yourself a deal," he replies. "Speaking of which, Hazy called yesterday," Greg says after a silence.

"Yeah, she called on my cell after."

"Everything's okay?"

"Yup, just wanted some news, she might come by soon."

"Ah-ah, finally a chance to get my revenge," Greg says with enthusiasm.

"Right, you can't beat her online, what makes you think that you'll beat her when she plays with you here?" Sara chuckles.

"I appreciate your faith in me."

Sara as a little head movement sideway "Is everything okay Cath?" she asks before finally looking in my direction, forcing me to actually come out of the corridor and walk in the living room. Damn her sixth sense.

"Yeah… I'm sorry… I didn't mean to disturb… I just wanted a glass of water," I immediately find a good reason for me to be here.

She smiles gently at me. "It's alright."

"Seems like nobody sleeps around here anymore," Greg jokes.

Sara pushes herself away from him and goes behind the counter in the kitchen. "How about some cocoa for everyone?"

"Cool," I smile.

"My thought exactly," Greg adds, and we start talking around the counter while Sara prepares us her cocoa.

xxxxx

"What?" Sara asks before returning her eyes on the road.

Conferences finally came to an end last week and she's finally back for good, something for which I couldn't be anymore happier.

"There's something about you," I shrug with a playful pout.

"Something?"

"Yeah… you look… I don't know… radiant."

"Oh…well…I've had two good days off," she blushes a bit.

Oh…

Now I get it, something tells me that Greg has something with it. Now I feel like smashing something…

"Yeah… and what did you do that was that special?" I ask but with no real enthusiasm.

"Greg got out of his way to wish us a happy anniversary."

My stomach churns slightly. I managed to forget that.

"So Greg's a big romantic."

"Oh no, nothing like that, it was more… I don't know… Greg-like, funny and unexpected," she shrugs. "Can you believe that it's been a year that him and I have been together?"

"No… it's hard to believe indeed."

"Anyway, yeah I'm in a good mood."

"Great."

Can I say, someone kill me?

xxxxx

I open my front door, step in my house and secure myself inside. I leave my belongings in the entrance and go to the bathroom. I shade my clothes and enter the shower cabin. The hot water drumming on my skin and the soap are not enough to give me the feeling of being clean.

I pass both my hands over my face and then through my hair. Everyday is starting to look like the previous. I spend time with Linds, then occupy myself around the house, I go to work, then I go out to have a drink, I end up in someone's bed, then I come back home and clean myself feeling dirty and even more crappier than before. When I don't end up in some stranger's bed, I'm drinking away my feelings.

Every time I'm under the water spray, when my disgust and self loathing are at their highest point, I promise to myself that I'll stop this sick, sinister routine of mine.

I step out of the shower after at least twenty minutes of cleaning, I wrap myself in my bathrobe, turn to the mirror and clear the steam off of it. I'm a bit taken aback by my own reflection, I look like a zombie, it's like the life was slowly being sucked out of me.

I just sigh and walk away before depressing me more than I already am. For the past four months I've been digging my way to hell, letting my unrequited feelings eating me alive and giving me the urge to top myself off a building. I've never been one to let my feelings affect me to that point, but the whole 'be honest with yourself' and therapy changed me and I don't work like I used to. Before my feelings got in the way those changes in me were for the best, now they are my one way ticket to depression city.

I feel lucky that I have Linds, because I know that if it wasn't for her, I'd have given into my old demons or actually given up on imposing myself the torture that breathing has become. I've accepted the fact that my feelings… will probably be the death of me. The whole situation is ridiculous, I mean feelings don't kill people, no what really does it, is the whole fantasies we had around those feelings.

For instance, I love Sara and in my head I make her happy, she makes me happy and everything goes fine. But in real life, how do I know that if we ever get together – one can dream – I'll make her happy or that it'll actually work between us. See, the thing is that first we fall for someone, but then we start to fall for the fantasies we have of that person, and in the end it's hard to tell if the reality is better.

All I know is that feelings are messy, passions are what make life so hard at times. If we could just take things as they come with a clear state of mind and separate our feelings from our reasons, I'm telling you the world would be one good place to live. Instead of that we torture ourselves, as if life wasn't hard enough.

I lie down in my bed and stare at the ceiling, knowing that I won't be any luckier than yesterday as far as sleep goes. All I'm doing is thinking about Sara, about how happy she is when I'm slowly decaying…happy thoughts in short.

I'm looking on the bright side though, my life isn't completely pathetic. I mean, yes my ex-girlfriend is dating my sister and they seem pretty happy together; yes I'm in love with someone who's in love with somebody else who love them back and they are happy as well. Why my life isn't completely pathetic you ask? Because at least there's not a corny and sad music going on in the background, I mean a soundtrack about my predicament would be the cherry on top of the cake.

Alright, my life is actually leaning on the pathetic side, but then again nobody said life was supposed to be about butterflies and rainbows.

xxxxx

"I brought ice cream, and that gross pastry you always take at our diner," Sara announces as I let her in.

"I wasn't expecting you," I state.

"I know, I didn't call before coming, is it a bad time?"

"No, not at all."

While Sara has been getting happier by the minute, I've been feeding myself off of our time together. At least I have that, for a few moments everyday she's entirely mine, and my mood is picking up – even if it's only to crash down even lower than before afterwards. Oh, not to mention therapy, sure Adam is there but he's a bit like the potted plant in the room who from time to time speaks.

"I'm worried about you," Sara says out of the blue. I'm about to ask her why, but she speaks again. "Cath… you're slowly clamming up, you're getting aloof, I know we don't have to tell each other everything, now I said it before but I'll say it again, I'm here for you if you need to talk or for anything really…"

"I know… don't worry…"

"Cath, you're obviously not resting, you're losing weight… overall… it doesn't look like you're doing good."

"Very nice way to say that I look like shit," I deadpan which makes her chuckle. I bet I don't look good, I don't sleep save for taking naps when Sara and I have a chance to have a pillow therapy; I've lost my appetite and my nights out aren't exactly the healthiest.

"Yeah…"

I sigh. "I appreciate your concern but I'm alright… I mean… yes my mood is a bit down…but that's how I am, of all times my break ups have been followed by a certain period of self loathing and berating myself for it not working… I know, I know, what happened isn't my fault… well actually I have my responsibilities in the situation… anyway, I'm just in the post break up down low…"

It's not the whole truth, but it's the truth still.

"And you know, it comes and goes… I think the only reason it's lasting is because Julianne is still in the picture and… I have to work things out right away, and you know me, swallowing my pride and be mature isn't my strong suit."

"True, but you've gotten better at it since we've started therapy."

I grin at her. "Really, I'm fine," I say with the most convincing tone I can manage. "Besides it's something I need to work on my own."

She puts her hands over mine and squeezes it a bit. She stands and tugs me on my feet, wordlessly she leads me to my room, once there we move with the ease any ritual brings. Soon I'm lying in her arms, my head on her shoulder, letting the warmth of her embrace slowly taking over my own body heat. It's not long before I fall asleep.

xxxxx

"Hey Cath, got any plans tonight?" Nick asks me with his charming, boyish grin.

"I'm warning you Nicky I'm not a cheap date," I smirk at him and he blushes.

"John Mayer is playing in a bar downtown, I was thinking that we could go, have a drinks and a good time."

"I don't know… the night has been long…"

"Come on, I'm sure it'll be fun…"

I don't have time to answer when everyone walks in the locker room.

"Hey everyone, I was asking Cath out, there's a John Mayer concert downtown tonight and…"

"Uh, I'm sorry but if I miss dinner with my wife tonight I'll end up sleeping on the couch for a month at least," Warrick announces.

"I… have plans already," Greg says.

"Yeah me too," Sara adds and I don't need anymore hints to know that they have planned to spend some time together. Just the thought sends my mind in overdrive and I already picture them barely making it through Sara's front door before starting to make out passionately…

"You know what, Nicky, you're right it's going to be fun, let's go," I immediately change my mind, I know that if I go back home right now I'll be thinking about Greg touching Sara and Sara touching him and…

"Yeah, you're sure?" Nick beams.

"Hell yeah," I reply with an enthusiasm I don't really feel. I know I should go home that going out is the last thing I should be doing, but it can't be as bad as before; I got Nick as a chaperon so chances are that I won't end up sleeping around like before.

"You guys are sure you don't want to join?" Everybody confirm their previous answers. "Your loss then," Nick shrugs. "I'll wait for you by my car," Nick winks at me.

We arrive at the bar with time to spare before John Mayer and his band start to play. Nick and I have a good time, talking and sharing a drink. The night goes on great, Nick is a gentleman as usual. Then John and his bands finally come on the stage, after the two first songs he invites me to dance. For the first time a months I feel good doing something I enjoy and that is healthy: dancing.

After an excellent 'Waiting for the world to change' everyone applauds at the band, John Mayer is excellent in live.

"Oh…awesome," I sigh with contentment and join the crowd in the cheers.

"Take it you're glad to have join me then," Nick puts an arm over my shoulders.

"Yes, it's great, thanks," I smile back. I see him looking away with insistence. "What is it?"

"I think I know her," he tilts his head in the direction of a young blonde in the crowd who's making a conscious effort not to start in Nick's direction, well not too much, but just enough to send signals that she's interested.

"Yeah, I bet you do," I tease him. "Go ask her to dance," I add.

"Yeah."

I shake my head with a smile. "I'm going to get a drink."

"You're sure?" he insists. I know he doesn't want to ditch me because we came in together, but I'm a big girl and I can take care of myself, besides I appreciate his protectiveness but I can see that he wants to go to that girl, and who am I to spoil his fun?

"Go for it," I wink at him knowingly and smile.

He butterfly kisses my temple and go to the blonde on the dance floor, I watch him make contact then I walk to the bar. A new song starts and Nick and the girl start to dance.

"The guy down there wants to buy you your next drink," the bartender announces and puts a drink in front of me.

I turn my head in direction of the man the bartender points out. I think about it for a second then I smile politely and shake my head. "No, thanks," I inform the bartender that I'll be paying my drink. The night is going fine and for once I don't want to ruin everything.

I take a sip of my drink and look back at Nick and the crowd. I don't know if it's because it's too hot around, because I haven't eaten much before drinking, but I suddenly start to feel a bit dizzy. I shake my head quickly to focus again.

I look at the crow just in time to see Nick signing me that he's leaving with the girl. We wave each other goodbye. I turn back to the bar and start massaging my temple. As soon as I'm a bit better I'm going home.

xxxxx

I blink my eyes open with difficulty, light is filtering through…holes in the curtains?…

What the…

I'm coming to my sense slowly to the sound of muffled voices and cars going by and my first coherent and dreading thought is that I don't know where I am.

I don't know where I am…

I lift myself up a bit and take in my surrounding, I'm lying on a bed, in a location unknown… naked… and I can't remember anything.

I look on my left and see my dress, underwear and purse scattered on the floor.

I shift position on the bed and lie on my back. I put a hand over my eyes with a deep sigh. I start to focus on what I can recall from last night, then I'm sure everything will come back to me.

In other circumstances I would have panicked, but seeing how my nights have been looking pretty much the same for the past four months and a half, I'm more jaded than anything else; admittedly usually I stay in control at least enough to make myself scarce when business is done. Guess I was too tired to bother last night, or maybe the fact that I was in a motel I didn't feel the need to leave immediately so as not to have to talk to the warm body next to me.

I snort to myself, I just woke up naked in a foreign bed in some crappy motel and I'm not even remotely bothered by it, that does say something about how low I've been going.

Way to go Cath.

I sit up and grab my purse, turn it upside down to empty it's content on the bed; phone, wallet and other things appears. I grab my wallet and open it. Pictures of a smiling Lindsey are greeting me, I check and find my ID, my driver's licence, my credit card, even the cash I always keep with me, everything is there.

Well, at least whoever I shared my night with wasn't a thief.

I wrap myself quickly in the bed sheet, facing the dirty and used curtains, the holes him them reminds me of a scene we had many years ago where a steel wall was sporting thousand of bullet holes. I stand and walk to them, as soon as I push them aside I'm blinded by the crude and pale daylight. I can see an empty pool, a parking lot and lots of doors leading to what I assume to be the other rooms.

I sit down again and rub my face tiredly. Let's see, I went out with Nicky to that John Mayer's concert… and then… then… damn it… it would be so much easier to think if my hangover wasn't over killing all my brain cells. I close my eyes and start to massage my temples in a slow motion to relieve myself from the pain.

For some reason my brain forces me to focus on my last statement, more accurately on the fact that I have a hangover. Gee, I don't know what I've drunk last night but it knocked my brain out severely. I stop the soothing motion of my fingers abruptly, I open my eyes quickly.

Wait a minute…I didn't drink last night…did I?

No, I didn't… I had soft drinks with Nicky, then we danced… and he went with Blondie…I went to the bar…a guy offered me a drink… a gin tonic…but decline…

Wrong… I decline for him to pay the drink but I had a few sips of it… I wasn't feeling well then…

Then…

Everything's blank.

I slap my forehead a bit, but the result is still the same: I can't remember.

Okay, calm down…

I drink, _then_ I felt weird…

Why can't I remember? One gin tonic alone is not enough to give me a hangover, much less make me forget everything.

That's right the gin tonic _alone _isn't enough for that…

Oh my goodness…

My eyes are wide open with horror and my heart is racing in my chest, as I slowly take in all the implication of my conclusion. Someone put something in my drink…

Now I'm naked, in a motel, somewhere, several hours wiped clean of my memory…

I think now is a good time to panic.

No, panic doesn't solve anything. I need to think, I need answers, whatever they are I know I'll find a way to deal with everything, but the uncertainty, the doubt, will kill me. Lucky me, I know the way to get answers, to know what happened… I've faced this situation many times enough to know what to do and not to do.

I dress up and go to the bathroom. I face myself in the mirror for the first time, I don't have any visible signs of abuse, but those aren't the one I'm worried about.

I consider my next moves for a few minutes, then pick up my phone and dial a number by heart, already dreading the phone call.

"_Las Vegas Crime Lab? How can I help you?_" a female voice comes through, after a split second I snap my phone shut, effectively ending the call.

I can't…

I look at my reflection again.

I can't let this go either. I need to know what happened, I need to know if I've been…

If I call for help then everyone will know. I've been working for years to build a career and a name for myself, battling to prove that I'm not what people think of me, that I'm someone. I'm not stupid and I know the words going around, Catherine Willows is a good CSI… for a slut. If someone learns that I've been… Then the next words around will be that I got what I deserved, that I saw it coming.

Well Willows, you put yourself in this situation, you're going to make your way out of it on your own, serves you well.

I look at myself, my body is glistening with sweat, but it's not what's making me feel dirty … what was I thinking?

I shake my head and focus, time is of the essence right now. I channel my concentration on what I have to do, this isn't a room in a shitty motel, this is a crime scene; I distance myself from everything, I will not act nor admit that I am a victim. Right now, I'm an investigator.

I walk to the bed, sit on it and grab what I could use to make an emergency rape kit of fortune, tampons, tissues, nail files, comb… anything. I collect a band of paper on the floor with a tissue and walk back to the sink.

I unfold the white towel – which seems to be the only clean thing in this place, and place everything I need on it. I open the small bin box on the counter and open the unused shower cap. I scrape my nails with the file above the cap for any residues, then put the nail on the cap as well, close it and put it away. I grab a tissue and 'swab' the sink for any trace.

My mind is racing as I try not to think of the next steps, all the time forbidding myself to even think about crying.

I grab a new tampon and take it out of its package, I slowly manoeuvre my hand under my black slip and look up, pretending really hard that I'm not taking a sample of my vaginal area, trying really hard not to think about the traces that could be there. Once I'm done I put the tampon back in its case and in its wrapping paper before putting it aside. I take a comb and a new tissue, then proceed to get traces from my pubic area…

I never thought I'd feel so humiliated ever in my life nor did I ever think about feeling so dirty…soiled…

Once I'm sure I took all the evidences I could, I get myself into the shower, this time I know that there's no amount of water or soap that will ever wash the feeling of dirtiness off of me. As much as I try to convince myself that everything is okay, that I'm alright… I can't…

There are things for which you never wish to ever be on the other side of the picture; I've process too many rape victims to count and I've always felt for them thinking that I could imagine what they were going through; turns out that I didn't… until now. I bury my face in my hands, right now I'd give anything to turn back time and get back to things were alright.

I get dress, get my things and exit the room. I'm in a run of the mill motel, it's just one in a million, try as I might I still can figure out how I got there. I walk to the registration desk, a guy between 35 and 45, with a raggedy look is talking over the phone about his profile picture, when I speak to him and hushes me with one finger in the air, silently asking me to patient a bit. My eyes wonder around on the floor, I have a weird flashback. I can see my arms and legs limp on my side, while two black panted legs with black shoes are making me move… like I was carried as nothing but a bag.

I shake myself out of the blurry vision and grabs the arms of the clerk.

"Hey," he protests.

"Did you see me last night?" I ask him before he gets a chance to say anything else.

"Yeah, you were feeling no pain," he replies clearly not caring and unfazed by it.

"Who was I with? Describe him. Was he white, black, tall? Hair color, car?"

"Look, lady, I get paid not to notice," he simply shrugs.

I rummage through my purse and take out my CSI ID "Who was room 229 registered to?"

The clerk sighs but complies without a protest, he clicks a few times on his mouse to get the information on his computer. "Catherine Willows," answers. "You used your credit card."

Great…

I thank him and walk out. He's of no help… now I know that I wasn't alone… so there's more chances that…

It's not like the options were numerous. I can get my swabs analyzed back at the lab, but to have answers I need someone's help.

I grab my phone and instinctively send a message to Sara, giving her direction and asking her to join me fast with her kit.

I thought I couldn't go any lower as far as the humiliation went, I was wrong, because now I have to face Sara in order to get her help. I know she won't judge me… but the fact that I have to share anything at the moment is worse than anything.

It's only twenty minutes before Sara parks in the lot of the motel and walks up to me. The mere sight of her silhouette makes me feel warm and protected, yet at the same time ashamed of myself.

"Hey, what's going on?" she asks with a small reassuring grin and concern.

I don't beat around the bush and lay things out plain and simple. "I may have been roofied and raped. I woke up here."

"What?" she's obviously taken aback but I don't stop, I start to walk and she just follows me.

"I, uh, improvised my own rape kit," I tell her "I've got pubic combing, nail scrapings, vaginal swab, urine samples…"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Did you call it in?" she asks with great concern.

I stop my march and look at her "I called you," I confess. Through her eyes I can see that she grasps the depth of my admission.

I'm going through an awful time and out of all people she's the one I've chosen to call for help. The boys were out; Sofia and I are just friendly co-worker; Grissom… Grissom would have been here as fast as Sara but he would probably have lectured me not to be mean, but because that's how he deals, he'd have berated me for not making the things properly, probably would have forced me to go to a hospital and then go home and I don't know… I love Grissom but at this very moment I know he's not what I need.

Now, Sara, I know that it's a lot to process for her, but that she'll take care of business first and that she'll leave me alone if I need; then she'll be there for me. I reproach her with that attitude by the past, but now I understand that she's not so different from me. She focuses on solving problem then lets herself be emotional.

"Catherine, doing it yourself is going to make anything that you get inadmissible," she gets on business.

"Yeah, I know the procedure. I didn't want an official investigation," I explain. "I…I just want to know what happened."

"Okay, all right," she nods. I can see that she's about to speak again, but I'd rather put some distance between us right now.

"I… got to get this, uh, stuff to the lab. Room 229, it's right up there," I hand her the key. "Please print it," I simply ask. "And, please, keep it between us," I feel the need to ask, even though I know that she wouldn't have talked about it with anyone, matter of fact I know she wouldn't have raised the subject with me ever again unless I brought it up.

"Okay," she reassures me.

"Thanks," I reply then rush to a taxi to get to the lab.

xxxxx

I manage to have Hodge working on my urine and vaginal samples, I decide to take care of the rest, the less people involve the better.

I'm so upset by everything that I can't work properly, I just can't find a way to shut my mind. I go back to the bar and ask questions only to come back empty handed. I get so involve in work that I manage to forget about Linds' dance rehearsal. Of course she's pissed about it, so pissed that she refuses to speak to me the whole way to Nancy's.

As I park in my sister's driveway I receive a text from Hodges informing me that he didn't find any trace of spermicide on the tampon. I feel myself breathing for the first time.

Nothing happened.

"Mom? Are you even listening to me?" Lindsey's voice takes me out of my thoughts.

"I'm sorry sweetie, what did you say?"

"I said that I had a solo… not that you care obviously…" she sighs jadedly. "Whatever," she adds before stepping out of the car and walking to Nancy's door.

"Sweetie…" my words are stopped in my throat by the door slamming shut violently.

Brilliant.

My phone rings before I can even process everything that is happening. I put the phone close to my ear and watch my daughter disappear inside Nancy's house.

"Willows."

"_Mugs_, _are you alright? Is Lindsey alright?_"

"Sam?" I'm surprise to hear him to say the least. "Yeah… yeah we are…why…what is this about?"

"_I just want to make sure you're okay_," he avoids the question.

"Yeah. I'm good… listen, I can't talk to you right now…" I shorten our conversation.

"_Alright. Anything you need to tell me, I've got people who deal with this any situation. Nobody gets away with threatening my family_," he states edgily.

"Sure, Sam," I reply a bit puzzled before hanging up.

What the hell was that about?

I am puzzled by his sudden urge to make sure that everything's alright. I turn on the ignition but before I steer the wheel something strikes me as odd when I think a little bit more about the conversation I've just had with Sam.

The wheels are turning in my head at breaking speed and I can connect the dots between me and Sam for at least ten different scenarios – each new one worse than the other. My anger picks up immediately and I start to rush to his Casino. He's not a saint, that's not a secret and that makes him a target for any conspiracy theory. And if he called me just now, I know that it wasn't out of fatherly love, he knows something, worse he might be involve in it.

Son of a…

I park carelessly, enter the Casino and walk quickly through the rooms in search of Sam. I ask different staff members where I could find him and after five minutes of search I finally spot him in the middle of slot machines and crowd.

"Sam!" I call out. He stops at the sound of my voice and turns around, when he sees me his expression hardens. "What was that all about? What do you mean, nobody gets away with threatening your family?" I spit with ire.

He instantly grabs me by the arm in a tight, firm grip and forces me to walk away with him. "Let's not make a scene in public, shall we," he says sharply.

I pull my arm away from him and face him again. "Answer me," I order.

He pushes a hand down his inside vest pocket and produces an envelope. "Front desk found this in the quick checkout bin."

I take the envelope and extract its content. I find a Polaroid of me sprawled in a bed, naked, I recognize the motel room of this morning. There are two other pictures showing Lindsey around her school and Nancy's house.

Oh my god.

I grab my phone and push a speed dial key. "_Brass_."

"I've already sent someone," Sam mutters.

"Brass, it's Catherine, I need police detail in front of my sister's house ASAP, I have reasons to believe that someone is after my family… that they are under an imminent threat…"

Maybe it's the urgency in my voice that did it, because he doesn't asks any question or puts in doubt my fears, he simply asks for Nancy's address and promise me to go there with the patrol officers himself.

"I'll be there myself shortly," I finish my conversation with him. I then immediately call Nancy only to be redirecting to her voice mail. Panic slowly grips me, I call her two more times and still don't get any answer. I leave her message, telling her that the police is on its way and that she shouldn't let anyone out of the house and

"Ready to choose what you're going to give me?" I read the note under my picture. "What does that mean?" Who's behind this?" my tone is sharp and doesn't cover my anger.

"I don't know. This was just found. Same place," he hands me another picture, this one shows me dropping Linds at Nancy, less than an hour ago. This time there are demands on the picture, an obscenely huge amount of money, and an account number.

"What the fuck is going on?" I speak through clenched teeth. I should have known that having him for father would bring troubles at my doorstep. Maybe it's just karma for letting him walk away with murder 1.

"I swear, I don't know."

"Like hell! I blame you! I blame you for this!" I shove the pictures on his face. "You're at the centre of all this and now we are all collateral damages!"

"I never wanted to involve you personally or professionally in any of my business," he tries to calm me down, which only pisses me off.

It's one thing to be the target of whoever he angered, it's another to have Linds put in danger because of him. That's something I swore not to let happen, and if anything does happen to my daughter right now, I'll be arrested for a patricide.

"Business? You don't have a business. You're a thug in thousand dollar shoes!" I spit with fury and contempt.

I feel the scorching sting of a slap brazing on my cheek. The chock actually set me off balance. I immediately put a hand where I assume the red imprint of Sam's hand is slowly appearing.

I stare at him in shock, for the first time I see hurt in his eyes, but it immediately changes into regret. I choose to ignore both.

"Thanks for not disappointing me, Sam," I say slowly with despise.

I turn around and walk away in a haste, trying to call Nancy yet again, only to the same result. I put on the lights we have in our function car and start speeding toward my sister's house praying to whoever that may be that my family is safe.

When I arrive close to Nancy's house several police cars are parked in the street and there seems to have a lot of commotion as I see officer and EMT going in and out of Nancy's house. My heart stops and my blood immediately turns to ice. I park carelessly and jump out of the vehicle leaving the engine running. I run the few meters between me and the house.

I found myself facing an officer who doesn't know me. "Ma'am I'm sorry you can't go in there…" I wiggle out of his hold and try to push him away.

"I'm Catherine Willows from the Las Vegas Crime lab, this is my sister's house, my family is in there, so let me through!" I try to force my way in spite of his hold on me.

"I…"

"Troy let her through," a voice with a thick Irish accent orders. Soon Fitz appears at my side.

"Fitz what's going on? Where's my daughter? My sister and her kids…"

"Calm down, everything's alright. Two men tried broke in, they got a bit rough with your sister and the kids but we arrived and heard gun shots… we acted immediately, I don't think they were professionals they got scared when they saw us. We got one in custody, the other one has managed to get away, we're taking statement and canvassing the perimeter," he updates me.

My mind got stuck on the 'gun shots' part of his sentence.

"Where's my family Fitz?"

"Inside, come on."

I enter Nancy's house, the door is barely hanging on its hinges anymore, I look around and find Nancy sitting on her couch while Linds is on one armchair, two EMTs are checking them up, a bit further are Nancy's two sons Allan and Jeremy both bruised, they are giving a statement to an officer… I briefly notice Julianne standing near but I just focus on assessing the situation. Everyone is looking in shock and seems to have suffered physical brutality.

The living room is trashed and when I quickly scan the room I can make at least three different bullet holes in the furniture. There's shattered glass on the floor, signs of struggle. My heart is beating fast as my imagination is trying to make out what took place.

"Nancy! Are you alright?" I kneel in front of her. She has a swollen cheek bone, split lips and a soon to be black eye.

"I didn't get your message… I didn't hear the phone…I don't know what happened…it went fast, they barged in and screamed and started to beat us. One of them had a gun… they shot around… we couldn't… then the police was there not too long after… and…" she struggles obviously still shaken up.

"Okay, it's alright… everything's going to be alright… did they hurt you?" I ask and look at her so she understands my true question.

"No… they just roughed everyone up… They were after Linds…" she whispers the last part. "I fought them…"

"I know you did sis, I promise I'll find who's behind all this," I say, cupping her face. I have no doubt that she would have died for Linds, just like she would have for her boys. I take her in my arms to comfort her a bit.

I go to Linds once the EMT is done with her. She literally rushes into my arms, I hold her tight against my chest, I finally let out a sigh of relief when it dawns on me that everyone is okay, bruised and physically hurt but okay.

I have a word with my nephews and even with Julianne, I make sure that they are alright, then I leave them with the officers as they all have to go down to the station to make depositions. Julianne offers to bring everybody at her house for the time being, something for which I'm grateful, suddenly all our grudges are meaningless, I'm even glad that she's here, at least Nancy won't be alone to deal with everything. I make sure that a patrol will stay with all of them until we're sure the danger is out of the way.

I exit Nancy's house and take a few breaths to steady myself. I can't, I just can't figure out how things manage to spiral out of control at such a speed, and I honestly wonder how all this is going to end.

I don't know if I should shoot Sam or whoever's behind all this. But I know that the rage fuelling the fire in my veins right now is giving me the desire to have blood spilled. In my line of work I see so many people do crazy things out of revenge right now I'm in their shoes and I understand where they're coming from. However I know that revenge doesn't bring anything but pain and trouble.

I calm myself and call Sara to see if she got anything on her side.

"_Sidle._"

"Sara, please tell me you got something… this is… they just attacked Linds, Nancy and everybody… One guy is on the loose and I know that he has something to do with what happened to me… please tell me you found something…" I tell her with extreme agitation.

"_I have… but first, is everyone alright? Are you?_" she asks immediately.

"Yeah, they are hurt and shocked, but they'll be fine. What do you got?"

"_I found prints on the motel room, on the nightstand, I thought that being a motel and all – a cheap one at that, I'd found too many prints to have just a useful one… but turns out that the cleaning must be done by someone who cares… anyway… the print came back to Joe Hirschoff._"

"Joe Hirschoff… Joe Hirschoff," I mumble to myself "…why does that name sounds familiar?" I query.

"_A week ago, we investigate the death of his business partner, Robert O'Brien. The two of them were architects on Sam Braun's Eclipse project, but they lost 20 millions in the run. O'Brien committed suicide during the demolition ceremony_."

"Yeah, I remember them now."

"_Cath… the thing is that O'Brien wasn't just Hirschoff's business partner, it was his life partner…_"

I close my eyes as all the pieces of the puzzle are falling into place. I put a hand on my forehead as I have a flashback of my night at the bar. Hirschoff was next to the guy offering me a drink… they must have put something in my glass… they had planned it all out…

"_Cath… I'm pretty confident that the target is Sam, and they tried to used you and everyone else to get to him as a payback…_"

"Goodness… I got to go, I got to warn Sam…"

"_Wait, tell me where to and I'm coming_."

"It's not necessary, Sam has his own protection, I'm just going to prevent him from doing anything stupid…"

"_I'm coming with you, just tell me where to._"

"We are Thursday, so he should be at his hotel…" oh fucking hell "… with my mother… he should be there with my mother…" I realize that my mom might be in danger as well. "This day is a nightmare…" I groan.

"_It's the one near the Eclipse?_"

"Yeah."

"_I'll meet you there_."

We end our conversation and I run back to my car. I make a U-turn and drive back to Sam. Something tells me that Hirschoff is the one on the loose, if I'm right and if he's really going after Sam, well… I need to make sure that Sam knows that the threat is real.

I just remember hearing Sam saying that he had send someone at Nancy's when I was asking Brass for back up, which means that he probably already knows what's going on. In that case, it might be better for Hirschoff that I get a chance to speak to Sam first or that the police catch him before Sam's goons.

Luckily enough I beat the evening traffic and find myself in front of Sam's hotel after a 40 minutes drive at high speed. He's standing on the strip with a blonde young girl at his side. Well at least my mom isn't there, that's still one good thing.

I steady myself, Sam is safe I have no doubt that his goons are on Hirschoff's tail, so all I have to do is update Sam and convince him to lay off and let the police do its job. I don't want that sucker to die quick, just for having the audacity to touch my family, I want him to rot in jail for long years to come. I don't give a damn if he's grieving, that doesn't give him the right to touch my family. My wrath is unforgiving, I'm going to make sure that gets the maximum.

I walk to Sam and his escort.

"Hi, Sam," I greet him without enthusiasm. My cheek and ego are still stinging from his earlier slap. He's obviously surprise to see me again so soon. "Can't change your old habits uh? Thursday night, always the same place… only usually with my mother," I state with a tight smile.

"I'll be right along," he dismisses the woman next to him with a firm tone. "She doesn't mean a thing. It's all show," he shrugs.

"Spare me, I know this broken records by heart."

"Look, Mugs, earlier I was…" he starts to apologize

"Just save it. I only came here to tell you to call off your guys," I cut him off.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he gives me his best innocent look, which is bad.

"Joe Hirschoff and his partner invested everything they had in the Eclipse. But it went bankrupt before you broke ground. You formed a new corporation to finish the project, leaving those guys with nothing."

"Sometimes that's the way it goes in business," he shrugs.

I snort, baffled by the coldness he's displaying even after everything that has happened. "They lost a fortune, O'Brien caved and stuck a gun in his mouth. Hirschoff wants you to pay him back. So, where is he?" I cut the chase.

"I don't know."

"Sam, this isn't old Vegas anymore. Let the police handle it. Or have you already killed him?"

He chuckles. "Trust me I know that times have changed, otherwise that man would have a hole between his eyes as we speak for what he put my family through," he says seriously. "I give you my word that I haven't touched the guy, and I have no idea where he can be."

I sigh, a part of me wants to believe that Sam is trying to stay on the clean side, but I've heard so many lies from him before that it's hard to know if he stills know how to tell the truth.

"Mugs, I promise, that I'm telling the truth."

There's a loud blast, followed by another one, and another. The crowd is shrieking with hysteria. I look in front of me and see blood spattered over Sam's suit.

"Mugs…"

I turn around just in time to see Hirschoff running away with a gun in his hand, there are other blasts and bullets loge themselves into his back, forcing him down.

"Mugs… answer me," Sam's hurried voice resounds again.

I turn in his direction again but this time acute pain registers to my brain and I bend myself forward, holding my side which is burning, my left arm also seem to be on fire. Something sticky and warm coats my hand immediately. My legs give away under my weight, but I feel strong arms softening my fall.

"Mugs, hang on, help is on its way. Stay with me," Sam is looking at me with a face contorted with worry.

"Catherine!"

Is that Sara's voice?

Am I hallucinating? Am I already in between life and death?

Sara's face appears in my line of vision. She immediately kneels next to me, opposite to Sam. She assesses my wounds. "You're going to be okay, it doesn't look too bad. Just hang on sweetie," she says while passing a soothing hand over my sweaty hot forehead.

The pain is making it hard for me to breathe, but slowly I'm getting use to the unpleasant sensation. Now that the blunt of the trauma has passed I think that it looks worse than it really is, I don't feel life slowly running out of me. I feel like had unbearable cramps in my arm and stomach side.

Sara takes her shirt off – revealing one of her simple tank tops that I've come to appreciate for their tightness around her body, and places it over my side to contain the bleeding, Sam is screaming orders around at his staff to clear the way for the ambulance, to keep people away and make sure everyone else around is okay.

"Hey, now, you didn't think you'd bail on me like that, did you?" Sara jokes.

"Can you believe the things I have to do to make you take off your shirt in public?" I joke back and she chuckles in response, she let out a shaky breath of relief, if I can joke then I'm okay.

"Don't talk smarty pants and save your energy," she replies. I groan in main as she presses over my wound a bit more. I feel hot and a bit woozy, it hurts a bit when I breathe.

"I don't know about you…" I say in a quick breath. "But I think that this day lacked in action and excitement."

"Clearly, whoever said that Vegas was a city of constant rush didn't know what they were talking about," she smirks.

I can't believe that in the space of a few hours my life has gone from bad to worse. This is probably fate's way to give ma a wake up call.

"Mugs, there's an ambulance on its way, you hang on tight," Sam came back to my side and he's now looking at me with worried, I think that except for the funeral of his son I've never seen him be so vulnerable. Earlier today I called him a thug, but right now he looks like a little boy.

I frown when I notice a small threat of blood escaping his suit vest at his shoulder level.

"You're hurt."

"I'm fine," he dismisses my concern and focus on me, holding my hands while Sara's putting pressure on my wound.

xxxxx

Sara stays at my side the whole time except when doctors ask for privacy. I have two ribs with hair line fractures from the bullet impacts, I've been touched by two bullets, and lucky my Hirschoff was a lousy shooter because both bullets provoked deep flesh wounds, but that's about it.

Several hours, x-rays, and stitches later I'm finally allowed to get out of the hospital. I first make sure that Sam is okay, in spite of my antagonistic feelings toward him I still end up hugging him, relieved that he's okay, he's a crook but we share blood, and deep down I do care about him.

"Ready to go?" Sara asks when she joins me in the corridor.

"Yeah."

"Do you want to stay at my place for a while?"

"I don't want to…"

"Don't say 'impose', 'bother' or any of their variants, or I might shoot you," she puts her hand on her service weapon hanging low on her hip.

"With pleasure," I smile sheepishly. "Do you mind if we go over at Julianne's to pick up Linds and make sure everyone is okay first?"

"Not at all."

Sara and I ride in silence, she gives me the time and space I need to collect my thoughts and process the events of my day. She's glancing at me every now and then, let her eyes fall onto my hands which I'm twisting and rubbing, just to have something to do.

Once at Julianne's, I spend some time with Nancy and the kids. I make sure that they are okay. They are still shaken, we talk about what we will do to double the security on both Nancy's and my houses. It makes me sick to have to see them all bruised and scared. I'm the reason why this family has been at arms way today. It's my link to Sam that brought all this upon us. I hate myself just thinking about it.

I would have stayed at Julianne's but it's crowded at the moment, so I eventually leave, not without thanking Julianne for being there and helping out. Linds decides to stay but she asks me to see Sara for a few minutes. Sara stayed in the car the whole time I was in, when she sees us come out she exits the car and Linds walks into her arms without any word. Watching them embracing each other with so much affection it dawns on me that those last months, I forgot that I had people to care about, but most of all people who cared about my family and me.

xxxxx

Once at Sara's, I take a quick shower; after that Sara prepares me a light dinner but I don't have any appetite so I mostly push my food around my plate. We don't talk as I'm too lost in my thoughts. I sigh and rub my eyes tiredly.

"I think I'm going to go to sleep."

"Okay," Sara agrees. "Don't worry, I'll clean up. Go lie down."

I don't have the energy to protest so I just nod. "Night…"

Sara lent me her batman t-shirt tonight, she didn't even fight for it. It was a sweet attention from her, I know how much she likes that shirt and how she is always reluctant to lend it. I curl in a ball – on my uninjured side, on her bed and wish hard for the last 24h to disappear, I wish to erase the whole day.

There's small ray of light breaking into the darkness of the room when the doors is opened and closed silently; I feel a pressure on the bed as Sara lies down behind me, she carefully put her arms around me, making sure not to come near my side wound and hurt ribs. She snuggles as close to me as possible.

I've been bottling everything up ever since I woke up this morning, forbidding myself to shed any tear, forbidding myself to beg for Sara's comfort, or anyone else's. Now that I'm in her arms, painful sobs rack through my whole body, tears sizzles against my skin as they flood out of my eyes, I feel like drowning, suffocating even; but Sara is here, she's holding me and that she won't let go, and that is enough to convince me that everything will be alright eventually, with time.

xxxxx

I look away and sigh. I'm back to that place again, the one where I'm always bare and vulnerable, some call it hell, but I just call it Adam's office.

"I'm a drug addict," I finally say after almost 30 minutes of complete silence. Adam looks up from his book and sets it aside, giving me is full and undivided attention. I look at the floor and put my hands around the back of my neck, then I look up and let go. "There was a time when I thought to myself that one day I'd be an ex-addict," I have a small head movement on the side. "That was before understanding that you actually never stop being an addict. You just tame your addiction and become good at controlling it."

I put an arm on the armrest next to me and watch my fingers playing with the fabric. "When I came to you… about the quote?" I glance at him just to make sure that he follows me, he have a barely perceptible nod. "It had already been a few days that was feeling my addiction lurking in the back of my mind… trying to crawl its way up to the surface."

"Then after that day it just got worse. Everyday, I could feel my addiction gaining space, inch by inch…until I was completely… filled with it," I tell him. I lean on my elbow which is on the armrest, and start to play with my lower lips absentmindedly. "It wasn't the first time that I yearned for it… I mean, fifteen odd years of sobriety… of course there have been moments when I had to fight back my addiction…" I rub my lip with my fingers. "But… the desire has never been stronger than lately," I confess.

"There were nights when I drove to places where I knew I could get some of what I wanted… coke, in case you plan on asking," I precise. I lean forward and put my elbows on my thighs; I start to rub my hands together and a strange yet regular pattern, I rub my left palm with my right twice, the right hand on the bottom; I reverse the position without breaking the contact between my palms, make my left hand do the rubbing movement three time, reverse the position again and start another cycle.

"I'd stay parked in those places for at least an hour, battling with myself… knowing that if I so much as open the door to step out of the car I'd sell my soul right back to the devil…" I watch the hypnotic and yet soothing movement of my hands. "I'd always drive away, find a bar… a club… get myself in… drink, just enough to disconnect myself… just enough to make it okay, to go to strangers' home and touch them when I didn't really want to…but at least for an hour or two, they'd help me fooling myself into thinking that I wasn't feeling completely and utterly… empty…"

I stop my hands, and knead the back of my neck firmly before standing up. I move to the large window on his left, and lean against it, watching outside yet not seeing anything. "Every morning I'd loath myself for the previous night, yet every night I'd happily start a new vicious cycle," I shrug. "I've had too many drunken and under influence nights to count, and just as many disoriented mornings. You know how it goes, you open your eyes and don't know why you are where you are or where you are in the first place, then you brain gives you clues little by little and life goes on again."

I close my eyes and try to push back the feeling of nausea. "Last week, I woke up in a bed, naked, in a room I didn't know, somewhere in some crappy motel… but I didn't have that 'oh right, now I remember,' moment… nope… all I had was a blank memory, fear, panic, humiliation, and anguish for sole company," I smirk with despise.

I tell Adam how I feared to have been raped, and everything that followed. I tell him how everything that I cherished and live for has almost been taken away from me in a blink of an eye.

"And do you want to know the worst part?" I ask him after a silence. "Even after all that happened, I want nothing more than to snort everything into oblivion," I snicker at myself. "How pathetic is that?"

I walk back to the couch and pace in front of it, like a wild animal trapped in a cage. "I used to think about Lindsey when temptation knocked on my door; that would be more than enough to renew my will and I'd chase the temptation away," I tell him. "Now I think about Linds, about the fact that I can't be a mother under influence, about the fact that I love her too much to put her through this… but the temptation doesn't go away… instead of that my will is getting thinner and thinner…I'm losing the battle against my addiction and I know it…" I admit. "I know that the day when I give in is close…"

I look at Adam, and he's just staring back at me with his usual detachment. I sit down again. "I know what you're going to say… you're going to tell me that using again won't solve anything, and I know that. See, the thing is that… even if I manage to lie to myself enough to believe that I'd only give in for just the one… provided that I don't overdose on the first take, for many years out of the game can be lethal… provided that I survive the first high which will be like an orgasm at seismic level, I know that I'll become greedy, one high will become two, then three… up to the point that I'll need to be under influence to even crack an eye open in the morning," I puff. "Even being aware of all that, I'm still yearning for it as we speak."

I pinch the bridge of my nose and try to focus, the thoughts I've just expressed are making me salivating. I lick my lips nervously and compose myself again.

"How do you feel?"

I chuckle. It doesn't matter that I know that he will always ask this question no matter what I say, it still manages to surprise me. "Empty… weak."

"You are strong though," he replies. My head shoot up and I look at him in disbelief. "Don't look at me like that, you know that I'll never tell you anything other than the truth," he says. "You are strong," he repeats. "You've just said so yourself."

"Did you black out earlier between the moment I started talking and the one I finished?" I tilt my head and narrow my eyes at him.

He smirks subtly. "You're an addict, yet you live in Vegas. You could have moved anywhere, to someplace where the temptation would be weak or merely existent at all. Yet, you chose to stay in Vegas, a city where it must be easier to find good drugs than it is to find a good coffee," he states. "You work crimes, you must have access to drugs confiscated or found as evidence, you could actually sustain your habit for free, with the law on your side if you gave yourself the means to do it," he pauses.

"You purposefully put yourself in a position where you challenge your ability to resist temptation on daily bases. You say that you've been under relentless temptation lately but you're still strong. Had you been weak you'd have stepped out of your car on the many chances you had. Instead, you drove away, even now rather than giving in, you came to me. You're not weak, you're wise. And acknowledging your own limits is a demonstration of strength."

He gives me a moment to register is words and let them sink in.

"I can't tell you what to or not to do. But you are strong Catherine, obviously stronger than you think or realize, you'll find the appropriate way to fight back, for you are a fighter," he states as if it was the most self evident thing in the world.

I bury my face in my hands and sigh tiredly. I stand up and gather my things, put on my jacket and walk to the door, I grab the doorknob but on the second thoughts I let go of it a face Adam again.

"I feel like taking back the part where I said that I hated you…" I rub my forehead and chuckle at myself. "Thing is… I do hate you… I mean… no offence but you're an asshole…but then again I seem to have a sort of inclination for assholes, my father, my ex-husband…"

Adam chuckles. "I take it as a compliment coming from you."

"I guess it is," I shrug. I wait a moment, not having any more to say I sigh again and then leave for good.

xxxxx

Sara and I quickly climb into her car after rushing through the parking lot under pouring rain. Most of the time it's hot and sunny in Vegas, but sometimes, like for the past five days, the city is drowning under diluvian rains. Rain has never been a good thing for us, it washes everything away, so if you ever plan on committing a crime make sure it's on a rainy day, that way you'll put half the chances on your side.

We both shake ourselves a bit once in the confine of Sara's car, both soaked from our minute run. Sara lets out a little cheer and rubs her hands together to warm them up. I pass my hands over my face to wipe away the water and sigh.

For the past two weeks, ever since the hellish day I had, Sara has been picking me up and driving me back home. She insisted on it, I think it was her way to make sure I'd be okay, not that I complain mind you, I do appreciate her concern and to have her by my sides.

I lean my head against the window and look at the city going by, the rain embellish its glow, in my opinion, the regular motion makes me lose myself in my thoughts. I've been thinking a lot after my conversation with Adam last week. I don't know if he's right about me being strong and finding the way to fight back my demons. Taking everything into account I decide to do what I thought would be the best at the moment. I've learnt that sometimes it was best to retreat and start over, taking baby steps if need be.

Suddenly the volume of the radio is a bit louder, not so loud people could hear the music from the outside, but loud enough to derail my train of thoughts. I turn and look at Sara who's not singing.

"Oh you know, you're a… cute little heartbreaker… you know you're a sweet little love maker," she sings along Jimi with an extra suave and playful voice. We stop at a streetlight and she turns to me, she puts her hands on both sides of her head to make ears with her finger. "Foxy!" she exclaims in my direction then grabs the wheel again as if nothing had happened. Try as I might, I can't fight the smile tugging at my lips.

We stop again and she looks at me. "Hey, Foxy Lady," she wiggles her eyebrows and takes a lower voice while she sings it to me. "Here I come baby… I'm coming to get ya…" she goofs around and winks at me.

I laugh softly, roll my eyes and shake my head. She keeps singing and wiggling her eyebrows every time she says 'Foxy'. At this moment, I find myself thinking about Adam, who would have thought that he'd be Wayne and Sara, Garth?

When I see her being so childish and go around her way just to make me smile, I think to myself that if I didn't already love her, that'd be reason enough for me to fall for her.

"Here we are," she states was she parks in my driveway.

I don't make any move to get out of the car, not just because it's still raining. She kills the engine and gives me time to collect my thoughts.

I focus on my hands and clear my throat. "I…I asked for a leave of absence," I break the new to her. "Everything has been going downhill lately and with the all the Hirschoff episode…" I let out a tired breath. "I've been trying to deal with everything… but…I can't… I'm tired… I just can't do it here so I'm… going back to Montana for while… I just need time to clear my head and get back some strength so I can deal with life again."

I bite my bottom lip. "I know it mind sound a bit extreme to go away, but I think that it's what's best at the moment."

I look at her for the first time and I can see understanding in her eyes. "Sometimes taking a break is good," she nods a bit.

"I'm sure you're just happy to get rid of me for a few months."

"Darn, I'm busted!" she snaps her finger.

I punch her lightly on the shoulder, she catches my hand and stills it. We both laugh a bit. "You're going there alone?" she asks after a pause.

"No, Linds, Nancy and my nephews are coming as well."

"Good."

I replace my hand in hers and squeeze it. "I just want you to know that I'm grateful for everything that you've done for me, and for being there in those hard times."

"You can always count on me."

"I know that I've been caught up in my own stuff but… you can always count on me too," I grin at her shyly. I run my thumb on the back of her hand, squeeze one last time and let go. "I should go now."

"Okay," she replies. "You take care of yourself."

"I will. Thanks for the ride."

"You're welcome."

I open the door and a gust of wind engulfs itself in the car. "I'll see you in a few months," I say before stepping out of the car in the rain.

"Cath," she calls me back. "Say hi to Linds for me."

"Will do, bye."

She just waves her hand in response. I close the door and walk hurriedly to my front door. Sara never drives away until she's sure I'm inside.

It appears to me that my trip back home is to put everything back in order and find some peace of mind. I guess I can't do that if I still have things to hold me back.

I walk back to the car and knock on the window so she unlocks the door for me. I swiftly move back in, lean over and take her my arms, I hold her tight. She's taken aback at first but eventually she returns my embrace.

"I'll never find words enough to express how grateful I am to count you as my friend," I confess. This is the first time ever that I refer to her as a friend, plain and simple. I feel her squeezing me a little, probably coming to the same realisation, we've come a long way together and even though it's not perfect our friendship is there, we are finally friends. "I love you Sar," I quickly add.

I can't see her face but I can hear her making that smirk of hers. "I love you too Cath," the nonchalance with which she's saying those words let me know what I already knew, she's loving me on a platonic level, she probably thinks that it's what I meant.

As I said before, I don't care if what she feels is platonic love, it's love nonetheless, and I cherish it. At least now I can move on because I've told her what I felt. I just needed to take those words out of my chest and the fact that she doesn't grasp the depth of my feelings is irrelevant.

I take a deep breath and release it. She kisses my temple and then I break the embrace and finally go home.

* * *

**Alright, as you noticed I've used loosely and manipulated to my liking the 'Build to kill' episode (ep 1 and 2 of the 7****th**** season for those who had forgotten). I know Cath's departure doesn't look good but it fits 'the plan', so as always I'll ask you to have a little faith in me. ;)**

**Song: **'_Foxy Lady_' **by Jimi Hendrix **

**I'll try to come back with more soon. **

**Thanks for reading.**


	29. Chapter 29

**Hi, alrighty then, the chapter where everything changes between Sara and Greg (sadly). **

**Enjoy,**

**So ;)**

**Ps: **Immi **thanks to be my partner in crime :P**

* * *

**Chapter 29**

_Sara's POV_

I'm laughing gloriously as Greg is tickling me relentlessly. We've spend our day in bed, talking, teasing each other and playing like kids. It's not the first time that it happens, and those days are my favorite because even if we are not necessarily intimate physically, we are closer then than any other time; it's like we were in a bubble of unadulterated bliss.

"Moon?" he calls me with slightly panting voice when I finally admit defeat. We're lying down next to one another, both catching our breaths.

"Yeah?" I look at him and brush his cheek with a finger, he has a stubble and though I never told him I think he wears it well.

"What do you think?"

"About what?"

"Your place or mine?"

"Uh?" I frown, I don't recall him asking me anything before now.

"Should we move in together in your place or mine?" he elaborates nonchalantly.

There's a long silence during which I'm taking his question in. Moving in together…

I should probably freak out right now, I know that in the past I've never been eager to share my personal space. Oddly enough though, I'm very calm, not even remotely fazed by his question. That's one of the things I love about us, everything seems simple. "Yeah… moving in together might be a good idea," I voice my thoughts.

He caresses my stomach and shifts his position so he's almost on top of me. "So? Where do we move?"

"Well… my place is closer to work," I point out.

"Good choice, that way we'll steal some extra minutes for quickies before going to work," he wiggles his eyebrows.

I giggle and slap his shoulder gently. "Smooth talker."

His laughter reverberates in our kiss. He cups one of my cheeks and rubs his thumb against my skin. "I think it's time to tell the gang about us," he states seriously. "I mean, now that we're moving in together…" he shrugs.

"I know…"

"We need to think of a way to tell them."

"Hmm… maybe later, right now I can find better things to think about," I smile and bite my bottom lip teasingly.

"Better things uh?"

I simply kiss him in response, and hold him tighter to me, making sure that he's only thinking about me right now.

xxxxx

"Hey, look who's all tanned now," Nick, winks at me as he enters the room and puts a little more food on the table before seating in front of me. We decided to order in so we could share a lunch together.

"It was sunny in Cali," I simply shrug before stealing some of Greg's food.

"Hey!" he protests.

"Here are the drinks," Warrick announces before putting cans of soda and bottles of water on the table, he then seats next to Nick.

"Sar got all tanned in Cali," Nick updates him as Warrick starts eating.

I introduced Greg to the rest of my family, he had met Hazy and Sydney on different occasion, but since I've had the chance to meet and build a relationship with his family, I wanted to give him the same opportunity. I've even introduced him to my mother, after much hesitation, not that I'm ashamed of any of them but I was afraid neither of them would be comfortable. As it turned out Greg was really great and Mom was really touched that I'd introduce him to her.

My brothers… they showed their brotherly claws to test Greg's resistance and evaluate if he was 'worthy of me' – and they went the whole nine yards, from interrogating him as if he had kill someone, digging background information on him, finding his intention toward me, finding answers to any questions they could think of. threatening him of rather painful consequences if he so much as bruised my heart and such.

Greg took it rather well, I must say, even though I was mortified, I think that maybe he was expecting something like this, I for my part was expecting my brothers to realize that we were no longer in high school.

I'll be fair though, once they were satisfied with their criminal investigation, my brothers relaxed and had fun with Greg, slowly but surely accepting him in our family.

The last part, having both of our families meeting each other is planned in four months, though I'm nervous, I'm pretty confident that no heads will roll down.

"Greggo got tanned too," Warrick points out while licking some sauce out of his thumb and reaching out for a carton of food with his other hand.

As Greg and I had hoped, they are connecting the dots and after that we'll confirm their conclusion – provided it's the good one, of course.

"Wait a min… Greggo went to Cali with you?" Nick asks with a frown.

And here we are.

"Yup," I smile before taking a bite of my food.

"Man, that's unfair, how come he got invited and we didn't?" Nick whines.

"I'm VIP," Greg simply shrugs, this time he steals from my food. I slap his hand playfully and he sticks his tongue at me

"I want to go to Cali," Nick goes on.

"Me too…I thought we were like brothers and sister, can't we have a special treatment too?" Warrick reasons.

"I got the boyfriend's privileges, I overrule you," Greg replies as if they should have known the answer.

I swallow a sip of my soda and watch Nick and Warrick, literally frozen in mid motion in front of us. They eye Greg – who's eating as if everything was normal, then me; they look at us back and forth, then exchange a glance before bursting into laughter.

"Boyfriend's privileges…" Nick breathes out in between laughs.

"Right, Greggo you'll always crack me up…" Warrick adds before laughing even harder with Nick.

Boy, it's going to be harder than we thought.

They wipe the tears pearling at the corner of their eyes when they finally start to catch their breaths. I look at Greg, amused that they find it funny, with only one glance we're on the same wavelength.

"Guys…" he calls them. "Seriously…" Nick and Warrick giggle, but Greg keeps on and tells them that we are a couple.

"Wait, wait… so you're telling us that you two have been dating for a little over a year now?" Nick repeats the information he just received. Greg and I both nod. Nick shakes his head. "I call bullshit," he smirks.

"I'm with Nicky, there's no way in hell this is true," Warrick backs up.

"We just went on a week end together," Greg states.

"Doesn't mean anything, I've been on week ends with Sar alone," Warrick shrugs then bites his sandwich.

"Same here," Nick chuckles.

True, I went rock climbing, go-kart racing, to concerts and other fun stuff with either one of them. Those trips for exclusive times with them tighten our bonds, but who would have thought they'd play against me one day?

Greg and I spend about ten more minutes to argue on the fact that we are indeed an item, but to no avail.

"Okay, listen, Greggo no offence man, but Sar is out for your league for one, then… come on, that prank could have worked a few years back, but this is just too big to be true," Nick points out.

"Oh I know what this is about, it's payback for the two last pranks we put one you guys," Warrick exclaims with an amused snort before high-fiving Nick.

"I got to say you almost got us, poker faces and all, but we still own you," Nick gloats.

The sound of their pagers put an end to their fun. "Robbins?" Nick asks Warrick.

"Yup, let's go."

They clean after themselves quickly. "Seriously though, next time you plan a week end away invite us, it's been long since we had a group trip," Nick, says with a wink before exiting the room with Warrick.

Greg and I sigh heavily. "Well, at least we did tell them," I shrug.

"How much you want to bet that a few months from now they'll understand that we meant it?"

"You give them months… more like three years from now," I joke. I stop chuckling when I notice him looking at me with a smirk and raised eyebrows. "What?" I frown.

"You think we'll still be together in three years?"

"No I don't," I reply very seriously with a shake of my head, Greg has a very small disappointed expression. "I _know_ we will," I add with a broad smile. "You're stuck with me boy, and if you so much as think about leaving me, I'll hang you with your guts," my smile never fade even when I threat him, I pat his hand before standing up.

He laughs softly after a little rush of fear. "You sure know how to speak to your man."

"You bet," I wink at him. "Okay, I'm going to see if Archie has something for us, page me if you got anything on your side," I tell him before leaving the room as well.

xxxxx

I'm lying on my bed in a foetal position when I hear the front door being opened and closed. Greg moves around the living room a bit then, he comes into the bedroom.

"Hey beautiful," he greets me and joins me in bed. He spoons me, resting one hand on my belly, I move a bit so he can pass his arm around my shoulders. He kisses my shoulder and brings me closer to him. "How do you feel?"

"I'm alright," I shrug. "Grissom called me into his office today."

"That doesn't sound good…"

"Actually it is. I finally have the authorisation I needed to complete the forensic research project I've been working on. I'll be on leave for absence for the next three months to conduct my research paper at the University."

"That's great."

"Yeah," I agree without enthusiasm.

Though I can't see him, I know he's frowning. I've been hoping for my application to come through for months now, so I should be ecstatic. He sighs heavily.

"Still nothing?" he asks knowingly, caressing my stomach and kissing my shoulder.

"Yeah…" I sigh. "It's been two months and… nothing."

Cath has been gone the past two months and she hasn't given me any signs of life, no email, no text message, no phone call… nothing.

"Moon… I'm sure she's fine, maybe she just needed a full break…"

"I know… I just… it'd still be good to have some news you know?"

"You miss her," he simply says.

That's an understatement. We've come a long way, I mean now we are friends, true, real friends. I can only guess that if things are so intense between us it's because we're trying to catch up all the years we've missed. It's hard for me to be there without any news, I know we don't have to talk all the time or see each other every day, but she's been through quite a lot and I just want to be there for her. I just need to be sure that she's okay.

Everything has been good on my side lately, I'm happy with Greg, I'm having the work opportunities I was waiting for, but Cath's absence is bringing me down. I guess I've become addicted to my friend, I miss our pillow therapy, and our weekly exclusive time; I miss telling her bad jokes, or our movie night. I just miss her deeply.

I'm worried too, I'm sure she's alright. Greg is right when he says that she just needs a full break. Cath is like that, it's always all the way or no way at all.

Still, everyday I'm expecting a sign of life from her, just an email saying 'hey', or a text with something silly.

xxxxx

I've been sitting on Adam's couch for forty five minutes now and I still can't find anything to say. I haven't come to see him ever since Catherine left, that will be five months in a week.

I thought that somehow when I'd be right here, in Adam's office I'd manage to make sense out of everything again. Even though I'd never say it to Adam, he helped me find some equilibrium and forced me to deal with my issue in a healthy way. I still don't like talking, but I do acknowledge the benefit of it.

I've been thinking about my life, about how things were still beyond great just over a week ago and yet how everything was destroyed in the blink of an eye.

I've always thought that I wasn't the kind of person made to be happy, that I'd eventually be contented but not happy. My childhood made me think that way, and I've spend long years up to recently to believe that my father was right after all. But the thing is that I brushed happiness with the tips of my fingers, I did.

Happiness is like a bubble, it engulfs you and brings you so high above the rest that you're just above any problems that might have taken you down before; it makes you believe that you are strong enough to take over the world. Altitude makes you euphoric, the higher you get the higher you want to go because it simply feels too good to let go, you get greedy.

The problem with being high is that fact that you forget tiny details; sure you realize how lucky you are to be surrounded by so many precious things and even though you constantly remind yourself not to take anything for granted, you forget the important detail. You forget that happiness is a bubble and it can burst under the tiniest pressure. When the bubble burst you fall.

It's not the fall that kills you, it's the impacts. Yes, impacts. The first happens when everything is ripped away from you so violently, so unexpectedly that a part of you is left behind. Then you hit the ground and finally realize what you've lost, and all the life you had left in you is just crushed before being burnt to ashes, leaving empty like nothing but a shell.

"I had to write a story about hope, once," I finally speak. Unlike usual after ten minutes of silence Adam had put his book aside and just watched me, waiting patiently for me to eventually speak, he watched me silently for almost an hour.

"I remember writing about people travelling in a train, the kind with a locomotive… and the train was riding through a thick fog…"

"The fog being a materialisation of hope," Adam elaborates.

"Yeah… the fog is somewhat reassuring because until you stop at a station you have no way to know whether or not you're in the right direction," I continue. "On one side of the wagon you have the passengers who are sitting in the forward motion, they never doubt that they are going in the right direction; and it doesn't matter at how many deception stations the train has stopped they always believe that the next station will be the good one," I snort. "Then, on the other side you have the other passenger the ones sitting in the backward motion, those who have started to believe that there are nothing but deception stations ahead, and that the fog is nothing more but a cheap trick to try to make you forget your disappointment in between stations."

I rub my forehead and sigh. "Then I wondered which group was having the best journey," I mark a pause. "In my opinion, it was group number two, because since they weren't expecting anything or expecting the worse, when they'd reach the right station then their joy would be incommensurable. Whereas group number one wouldn't appreciate reaching the right station, they'd just think that they were right all along," I shrug.

"To which group do you belong?" Adam asks me before I can get lost in my thoughts.

"Neither, I'm not in the wagon."

"Are you the one controlling the locomotive?"

"No. I'm the poor sucker who doesn't realize she's walking on the tracks until the three seconds before the whole train runs her over."

Even though he conceals it pretty well, Adam is a bit taken aback by my answer.

"The moral of the story is that hope might bring some satisfaction, it might bring nothing but deception for some other; in my case it never brought me anything except pain."

I look at the window and sigh heavily. "I used to hope that my father wasn't lying when he apologized after losing his temper the first times; I used to hope my father wouldn't be drunk and drugged out of his skull by the time my brothers and me would come back from school, that he wouldn't beat the crap out of us, abuse us verbally or simply decide that he wanted extra bonding time with me; I used to hope that cutting myself would erase what I felt; I used to think that the drugs would help me forget…" I shake my head. "Never once did I avoid the collision with the Reality Train."

I snort. "I believe I'm fairly intelligent, so of course with time I've learnt to be wary of the fog and almost always expect the pain, because I believe that when you're expecting it you can tame the pain or at least find virtually ways to escape it," I shrug.

"And it worked, you know… there's one problem though, when the collision doesn't happen regularly… you start to think that you beat the odds, that somehow you got away from the tracks… you slowly let your guard down, you get confident… hopeful…" I look away as my emotions threaten to overwhelm me. I take a deep breath and compose myself again. "So when that train hit you again… not only you're surprised but the pain is multiplied by a thousand… it hurt so much that you actually ask yourself if you'll be able to ever stand up again."

I look at Adam, not finding any more to say, or maybe just not ready to say anything else.

"What did the train destroyed?" he finally asks after at least three minutes of complete silence.

I let out a shaky sigh and clear my throat. "The hope that finally… I'd be complete and happy… truly happy… happy of who I was… and happy of the persons I have in my life… just happy to be…"

My throat is contracting itself more and more, making it harder for me to breathe, just the thoughts of having the words coming out in the open, is hurting me all over again. So I force myself to speak, each words cutting my throat and burning my tongue, making things even realer than they already were. I make my escape somehow, even if it's only in my mind, I just block the words out and detach myself from reality just a for a few minutes.

"Say something," I ask Adam. He has been staring at me the whole time I count the tell tale of my sorry life, and probably for the first time, he seems speechless. "Say something for fuck sake…" I press him after another minute of silence, hot tears are burning tracks on my cheek now.

Adam is about to speak but I cut him off. "Say something but spare me your psycho bullshit right now… I want you to talk to me not as a friend, not as a shrink but as human being to another," I warn him.

He sighs, looks away and then back at me. "Unfortunately… those things happen…"

I burst into a heartless laughter. I wipe my tears with the bottom of my palms. "You know what… just stick to the shrinky bullshit… cause if 'shit happens' is the best you got then I'd rather endure some smart and seemingly deep comments… at least you sound less moronic."

I chuckle. "I've just told you that…" I trail off and shake my head. "You're right, shit happens," I shrug. "For some reason I thought Greg and I were special… but we are just another couple among billions of others… just another copy of a copy…" I snort. "I've always thought that my life was a drama, but it's actually more pathetic than that, I managed to make it a parody of a drama…" I force an empty laugh out of my throat.

"Those things happen, but it's not your fault," Adam states seriously. I laugh again, shaking my head at the ridicule of his words.

"You're disappointing me, Doc, you got me used to better replies," I joke weakly.

"It's not your fault," he replies.

"Yeah…" I chuckle.

"Sara," he calls me, forcing me to look at him. "It's not your fault"

I giggle once more but this time I can't hold back my tears anymore. I put a hand of my eyes immediately, but it's no used, I'm crying yet again. Pain is ripping through me as I sob. My relationship with Greg made me cry very few times, the first was a month before or first anniversary and this is the second time – well I've been crying for ten days now but since I haven't really stopped I'll count it as just one whole thing.

My whole body start to shake with intense sob, I feel like I was drowning, suffocating in all my pain. I look up desperately like I could see the surface of the invisible ocean I'm sinking in.

Adam stands up and comes to sit on the couch next to me but at a safe distance. He reaches out a hand but then makes a fist just moment before making contact with me probably berating himself; we both know that being physically there would be like crossing that invisible line between us that should stay untouched at all time. Yes, there have been times when we stepped on the line from a mere inch, but we never crossed it nonetheless.

"It's not your fault," he repeats again in a whisper, his fist balled tightly on his lap.

Then unexpectedly he grabs my hand, I hold it tight enough to almost crush it; I hold on to it like life line as I cry heart out.

xxxxx

After sobbing like a baby, holding Adam's hand for about two hours I left and went back to my apartment. Greg and I just moved around one another in silence, sometimes mumbling some irrelevant things to each other to pretend that we still communicate. Truth to be told, for the last ten days we have been… taking everything in I guess.

I didn't lie to Adam, Greg and I were special, in my eyes we've beaten the odds so many times that somehow I felt that we were immune to bad times. Adam kept repeating that it wasn't my fault, but I believe that both Greg and I are to blame. It all boils down to one bad decision leading to another which leads to another and so on.

Now I'm sitting on the ledge of my living room window and he's in the bedroom where I know he's lying awake. He won't come to me like he usually does. We both know that there won't be comfort in the embrace we can give to one another, at least not at the moment.

We're going to spend our night wondering how things went wrong; who's guiltier. Maybe if I hadn't chose to work on the project with the university things would have been different, maybe if I hadn't cancelled our plans that day and if had been there for our date, maybe we wouldn't have argued over something stupid and maybe… maybe he'd have made a different choice that day and just maybe, maybe things would have been different.

Now, everything is spoiled. And even though we talked it through and decided to work things out, our relationship is forever scarred.

Sure, when the night's over we'll start another day; we'll pretend once more that we are okay, we'll keep convincing ourselves that we'll figure things out; that the situation between us isn't that bad, lot of people make it through. Yet, even though we won't say it out loud we both know that something has been broken and pieces will be forever missing.

Yet I refuse to let go, not wanting to give up at the first little bump on the road – even though I felt like we've hit a wall at great speed more than anything.

Adam's right, those things happen; at the moment I'm too hurt to let Greg close again, not after…

But I love him… we love each other and love conquers all, right?

* * *

**I know, I know, you're probably asking yourself if I didn't forget to write a few passages and think that the chap is weird and frustrating but there's a reason for that.**

**Indeed I have an announcement to make, after much reflection and brainstorming with my hyperactive Mojo, ****there will be a sequel to this story**** (yeah there's a first time for everything). In the sequel I'll come back on them and reveal what happened, but in the meantime I leave it to your imagination, I'll just rule out one possible far stretched suspicion (cause it bugs me that it could appear that way) there hasn't been any physical abuse between them (right **freddie** ;) ). Not that I think anyone care since no one liked the pairing apparently (pity :P)**

**And yes, before you ask you won't have to wait for the sequel to get some Cath and Sara loving, I'm getting there, have faith in me, there's a _path_, I'm a girl with a plan.  
**

**As I said before they won't make it past this chapter, it's true, well the break will happen a little later, but what's important is that fate is in motion.**

**Anyway…**

**Thanks for reading.**


	30. Chapter 30

**Howdy there! Thank you for your reviews, you guys are great as always. Here's more :)**

**Enjoy,**

**So ;)**

**Ps: Thanks** Immi **to always help me out ;), you too **freddie **;)**

**

* * *

Chapter 30**

_Catherine's POV_

I'm debating with myself about what I could say, my mind can't hold one thought still so much I'm excited and apprehensive, I've been waiting for this day for a long time – 176 days to be specific. Now, my heart is drumming too hard in my chest, my palms are sweaty and I can't remember the last time I've felt that nervous.

I finally raise my hand to knock on the door in front of me when it opens so suddenly that it startles me. To my surprise, Greg is the one on the other side. We are both momentarily taken aback by each other. He has changed, I haven't seen him in 5 months and some odd days, he looks older, much older. He's looking tired, his beard – the first I've ever seen on him in all the time I've known him, makes him look thinner and the usually boyish expression that was his trademark is gone, for the first time I feel like I'm facing a man, and to be honest I'm not sure I like it; his eyes light up when he gets over the shock of seeing me, but something is missing, the ever present sparkle in them is missing.

He's quicker than me to recover, before I can say anything he wraps me into a tight hug, almost cutting my air supply. I don't remember ever being on the receiving end of such a display of affection coming from him. I eventually return the embrace.

He pulls back and grins softly. "You got a perfect timing, come with me," he simply says before locking the door behind him. He moves past me and start climbing down the stairs, he stops suddenly and turns to me again. "I'm taking you to her."

I smirk and follow him. I decide not ask questions, this time my nervousness doubles as he's driving us away to our destination. I was expecting us to pull into the lab parking lot, but we are now on the lot of a University.

I mimic Greg and exit his car, he walks into a building and then through corridors obviously knowing his way around. He stops in front of a door and turns to me. "Give me two minutes please," he asks.

"Sure," I grin and watch him opening the door.

I can only see glimpses of the inside but I don't bother registering any information besides the fact that Sara is standing, leaning over a table with her arms stretched, watching pictures or reading some papers. Greg walks to her, he puts a hand on her shoulder then they exchange a tender and brief kiss. They exchange a few words and then Greg kisses her forehead.

There's something off about them, or maybe they seem quite shy around one another, the smiles they exchange are tentative and they lack their usual warmth. I step away from the ajar door when I see Greg coming back.

"I'll be waiting by the car," he smiles at me then walk away.

I take a deep breath before opening the door wider and walking in. Sara has her back to me, I suppose that Greg kept my presence a surprise and simply said that someone wanted to see her.

"I'll be right with you," she informs me.

"That's alright, I'm in no hurry," I say calmly, even though my heart is threatening to destroy my rib cage.

Sara turns around at the sound of my voice and looks at me with disbelief. My heart skips a beat and my breath is stolen, 176 days without seeing her and though I've thought about her each of those days, I feel like I was seeing her for the first time.

She looks a bit tired and maybe paler than usual, yet she is beautiful. Emotions run through her eyes, but I don't have the chance to decipher any because she puts her impassive mask on. I guess it won't be the warm and happy reunion that I have been imagining on my way back to Vegas.

"Hello stranger," she simply says.

"Hey," I grin shyly.

She stares at me without any expression, leaving it up to me to lead our conversation. It's funny because somehow I had convinced myself that we would pick things up right where we had let them off, that I would come back that we'd hug each other like in the movies – minus the slow motion, we'd get all excited and girly, probably jump up and down and just talk all day wanting to catch up with one another.

"So… the lab was so depressing without me that you've found a new job?" I joke weakly.

"Not really no," she answers with a flat voice. I feel a small pinch at my chest level. "I just had the authorisation to pursue and finish the program I had registered into during one of the conferences. I've been studying the different ways to preserve evidence longer for the past three months and a half," she elaborates.

"Nice," I nod in appreciation. We share a long silence, all the time staring at each other. "For some reasons, I had thought that you'd be happy to see me," I finally let out some of my disappointment.

"I only have two things to say right now. First, five months and a half is an awfully long time, especially since you didn't bother giving any signs of life," she states, and though her voice is even I know she's angry.

"I deserve that," I look away to cover the hurt inflicted by her words.

I can't blame her; I know that my behaviour wasn't the best. I did play dead during all the time I've spent away. I didn't give any signs of life to anybody, at all. Nancy stayed the first months with her boys and Linds. Nancy called home often but except from that I didn't have any contact with anyone else. I needed a full time for myself, just myself. I know it sounds selfish, that it _is_ selfish, but I needed that break to put things in order.

I do feel bad, because Sara has tried to reach me, she called me till my voicemail was full, she sent messages and emails first once a day, then once a week, eventually she stopped. I guess that after four months without any response from me she gave up. It wasn't to hurt her, but my feelings for her were in the way and in order to deal with them I needed that distance.

"Yeah… about that… I'm sorry, but I really needed time for myself, time to think and deal with everything. That's how I work you known… I didn't mean to hurt you or make it seems like I didn't care… I do care…"

"I hope it was worth it," she brushes off my words. "It's good to see that you're still alive," she adds. She sighs and starts moving around the office. "So what made you come back?"

"I was starting to miss Adam," I reply nonchalantly. "It occurs to me that if I missed him that was the sure sign that I was homesick of Vegas."

I could tell her the truth; that each day away from her killed me and that I couldn't stand it anymore, but whether or not she realizes it, her attitude right now is hurting me, and I just refuse to appear weak in front of her. Besides I understand where she's coming from, even though I wish for her to be more forgiving.

She turns to me and snorts with a barely there grin before picking up a paper from the table.

"How is he, for that matter?" I keep on my tracks. "Does he miss me?"

"I couldn't say, I've only seen him once during your absence, and that was five days ago," she replies without any enthusiasm.

"Poor thing, he must feel abandoned," I pout a bit.

"He seemed fine to me," she shrugs.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath; I think that it's my cue to go. I don't think I'll be able to keep up with this any longer. I was expecting a warm welcome and I've been greeted by a freezing cold shoulder, I can feel the ice gripping my heart.

"Well…" I clear my throat as my voice wavers a bit. "I was just coming by to say hi and that I was back… but uh… seems like you have a lot to do and that I didn't pick the right time… so uh… I'm going to leave you to your work then," I declare and start walking back to the door.

I make my way out of the office and walk a few steps in the corridor. I stop in my tracks and retrace my foot steps.

When I enter the room again Sara is facing the door, she was probably expecting me to come back.

"What was the other thing?" I ask. "You said that you only had two things to say, but never mention thing number two," I elaborate. "What is it?"

Sara stares at me, a subtle smile playing on her lips. "For a moment there I thought you would never ask," she says.

I frown at her answer but don't get the chance to dwell on it as she advances toward me. She stops when she's in my personal space; her arms slowly surround my body. No matter how close we got, or how intimate we've been at some point, Sara is always struggling to show affection; when it comes to hug, her embraces are awkward and not always comfortable, but it's her trademark – I call it 'rocket sciences hug' because that's how hard it look to her; now that I'm in her arms, I can say without a shadow of a doubt that I wouldn't trade her uneasiness for anything in the world.

I wrap my arms around her as well, feeling her tightening her hold on me. "I've missed you…" she whispers. She squeezes me a bit harder, but I don't complain.

"I've missed you too, more than I can express," I finally tell her what I've been yearning to tell her since I walked in the room.

I can feel small tremors suddenly coursing through her.

Is she crying?

I just hold her tighter, deciding against calling her upon it. My heart breaks, I hadn't fathom how much my behaviour would affect her. Now I curse myself for being the one to make her cry. I let my fingers caress the back of her neck in a soothing motion.

This embrace holds so much emotion, but none of the ones I had imagined; I couldn't say why, but I feel sad, her embrace is sad; I can feel relief but I can also feel pain, a pain I can't fully grasp. All I know is that I don't ever want to inflict her such a pain, and I'll do anything to erase it.

I don't know how long we stay in each other arms – not that I care, but eventually she pulls back and immediately pushes the ball of her palms in her eyes to wipe her tears away. She snivels quickly and takes a step back. "Greg…" she clears her throat. "Greg is waiting for us, we shouldn't make him wait any longer."

"Sure," I smile. "Let's go."

xxxxx

My break in Montana was a really good idea. When I left Vegas I was struggling with my addiction; my life was at a low point; I was going around the block, drinking regularly, well basically using different vices not to deal with my issues.

Now…

Now I believe that Adam was right, I'm strong. I've let myself go before going to Montana, I've let myself become the weak little girl that I was back in the days when I first came to Vegas. That girl couldn't stand on her own feet by herself; that girl couldn't make any wise decision; that girl would do anything to be appreciated; that girl couldn't stand to be alone; that girl made mistakes, and those mistakes helped to shape the woman I am today. That woman doesn't let anyone stepping on her toes, she can stand on her feet and face anybody; that woman isn't afraid to stand up for her opinion; that woman doesn't take any shit from anybody.

I am strong, and right now I feel like I could move a mountain. I am proud to say that Catherine Willows is back in town and ready to kick asses.

I've used that time away to deal with my heartbreak. Yes, it wasn't just about the whole Julianne episode, it was about my feelings for Sara. She made her way through to my heart without even realizing it, and she made it impossible for me to explore or express those feelings; and that hurt me. The reason why I cut clean any contact with her was to mend my broken heart, I couldn't keep on feeding myself on fantasies and dreams that won't come true. Heartbreaks are hard but they aren't the end of the world, so I did what I should have done long ago, I've dealt with my feelings and accepted the fact that Sara's happiness was laying at Greg's sides, not mine. Now, I'm ready to move on.

I know that my decision not to have any contacts with her for five months and a half hurt her really bad; if we're slowly building our routine back, I can feel that we have taken a small step back, but I can accept that, and now that I'm back I intend to change everything and get us back to where we used to be before I left.

xxxxx

"Greggo, answer me this, did you lose your razor or something?" Nick asks when Greg walks into the break room.

I've been back for three weeks and Greg still hasn't shaved his beard – I don't know for how long he's been wearing it before I came back. It's a clean beard, he doesn't let it go wild but… I don't know I'm still not used to see him like that. There's something else, I don't know if it comes naturally with the beard but he's more serious, it's like he was never joking around anymore, or rather like he lost his goofy side.

"If you keep this up Griss is going to start calling you 'mini me'," Warrick jokes. Greg chuckles but his heart isn't in it.

"I like it, and so does Sara," he grins a bit, scratching his beard.

Nick and Warrick both laughs as if he had told the best joke they had heard in a long time.

"Yeah right," Nick winks at him then turns back to the fridge.

"Kids, here are your assignments, Greg you're with Catherine and Nick you're with Warrick. Be careful and thorough, rock on," Grissom simply says as he walks in and out of the room like he had his pants on fire.

"See you later," Warrick and Nick both say then walk out.

I make sure that no one is within earshot then turn to Greg. "So they know?"

"We told them," Greg nods, knowing what I'm talking about.

"How did they take it?"

"They still think it's a joke," he smirks.

I laugh softly. Nick and Warrick can be pretty oblivious when they want to. I remember having a hard time believing that Greg and Sara could possibly be together in our universe, in that very dimension. But I've had enough proof to know that it's real. However I understand why Nicky and Rick can't take that seriously.

"I'm going to get my jacket, I'll join you by the car," he announces before walking away.

xxxxx

"What were you thinking?" I shout at Greg. "Greg, what the hell were you thinking?"

"Get off my back," he mutters angrily not even looking at me. His left arcade is open, he has wide gashes on his right forearm and chest, and two minor stabs on his right side; his upper lip is swollen and tainted with blood; his nose has stopped bleeding; I know for sure that his has a few nasty bruises all over his chest and arms; last but not least the knuckles of his hands are almost raw.

"I'm your superior here, you were inconsiderate and reckless! Do you have _any_ _**idea**_ how many lines you just crossed?" I ask angrily. "Look at me when I'm talking to you!" I order him. He sends me a dark glare which only infuriates me more, then looks away. I've been reprimanding him for the past ten minutes and I'm not getting through him, he just has that 'I don't give a damn' attitude and that doesn't sit well with me.

I'm fuming. I'm mad at Greg because he almost compromised a case, not to mention the rest.

We arrived on a scene and walked in on a crime in progress; Greg pursued the perp which was more than okay, because it is our job; he caught the perp and the perp wasn't cooperative so they wrestle. The perp hurt Greg severely with a knife but Greg seemed to be more enraged than a pit-bull on cocaine, so he managed to overpower the perp. Where it started to fall apart was when Greg wouldn't stop beating the perp even when he was defenceless. It's a good thing the two officers with us and I arrived not long after because I don't think Greg would have stopped hitting the guy on his own.

I've never seen him like this, so wild…out of control. Come to think about it, he could have simply threat to use his firearm against the perp the minute he had him cornered, instead of that he went for unnecessary contact, like he was looking for danger and an adrenaline rush.

Now not only Greg is hurt, but our perp could actually charge him with assault which would compromise our case. This is just unbelievable, Greg isn't the 'burn out' kind yet he was more than reckless tonight.

"Do you realize what you've done? You're lucky I'm not Grissom or hell Ecklie, because your ass would be out the door by now!"

"You done?" he asks jadedly.

"Greg, you were at fault!"

"He was assaulting her, then he assault me, I was just fucking defending myself!"

"More like passing your nerves on him, you almost beat him to the pulp! Feel lucky to get out of it with a few deep cuts, cause he could have stabbed you to death!"

"Look, I was doing my fucking job, if you have a fucking problem about it, either bite the bullet or take it with Grissom," he spits. "I defended myself! Now get the fuck off my back!" he orders me violently, looking at me with untamed rage and contempt.

That's enough.

I turn around and slam the door of the hospital room we are in with such violence that the glass rattles. I cross the distance between Greg and I, stopping a few inches from him, invading his personal space. I grab his chin firmly forcing him to look at me.

"I don't know what your problem is but you better get your head straight again and fast. Now, this the first and last time you ever disrespect me. You talk to me like that again and I'll be your biggest problem yet, do I make myself clear?" I threat him with a steel laced voice. My eyes hold the anger raging in me, I want him to know that I'm not joking, regardless to any bond between us, he doesn't get the right to talk to me like he just did, even less when he's at fault.

I finally seem to get through him as a flash of regret passes in his eyes. I release his chin and walk out to cool off a bit.

I'm still outside of Greg's room – waiting to the nod of the doctor for him to get out, when I see Sara walking toward me.

"Are you alright?" she asks with concern.

"Yeah, don't worry."

She simply nods, her expression darkens before she steps into Greg's room, closing the door behind her. From her body language I can tell that she's pissed off. I'm surprise at the first slap she lands on Greg's cheek, he doesn't react or even look at her though, she slaps him again and again. She tells him something that I can't hear nor decipher then she turns around and I look away quickly not to appear to be looking at them.

Sara exits the room and start walking away without even looking at me once; her steps are hurried, signs that she's still upset. I look at Greg who looks like he finally understands what he's done and is overwhelmed by regrets. He sighs, stands up and walks after Sara.

He catches up with her and grabs her elbow gently, she immediately pulls away from his grip. They make a conscious effort to keep their voice at a whisper level, not wanting a scene in public. Greg tries to take Sara in his arms but she struggles against him before eventually giving in; she doesn't completely return the embrace obviously still angry. She whispers a few words to him, he replies; she looks away then back at him; they stare at each other a few more seconds, Greg's left hand comes to cup her cheek, his bloody knuckles stand out against her pale skin; he talks to her probably apologizing once again, she eventually nods then she kisses him, says something else before walking away.

Greg watches her go, runs a hand on his hair then eventually walks back into his room. I don't know what's going on but I've just realize that it might have everything to do with their couple; maybe they're having a rough time and Greg is letting it affect his judgement while on the field. Not to sound like an asshole but that's the reason why we shouldn't mix work and personal relationship, cause if things are messy on one side they are inevitably messy on the other one as well.

Alright, given the chance I'd have a relationship with Sara regardless to our jobs, but to our advantage we've already seen the worse of each other and that never affected us before; not that it's relevant anyway.

I sigh, parted between going after Sara and staying with Greg. I decide to stay around just to make sure Greg is okay, Sara might need time for herself.

xxxxx

"So… did you miss the field?" I ask Sara after ten minutes of a silent drive. She finally came back among us. She spent a month more than originally planned at the university to finish her project, the least we can say is that she got busy, she did four publications, made a whole thesis, and helped in the researches.

"Yeah… a bit," she shrugs. "I was getting used of the way things were at the university."

"You sure got busy," I grin.

"Yeah," she replies with a small smile. "You know they offered me a job for teaching."

"Really? That…" please tell me she said no. "That's great," I manage to get out.

"I decline… I like the whole study and research but I think I still need the field experience."

Thank goodness.

I smother a sigh. "Well, that's still a great honor, right?"

"It is, I might go back there to make a few conferences here and there if my schedule allows me to do it."

"You got the conference bug," I joke.

"Guess I got bitten when I wasn't looking."

"I hope for you it's not contagious," I send her a mock glare.

We keep driving in silence and steal a few glances in her direction. Before I went away we had a reached a point where our silences were few but when there was any it was comfortable. Our silence is filled with worries on my part and I take it more like a sign that she has put back a wall between us.

"What?" she asks, staring in front of her.

"You… you look awfully tired."

She chuckles softly. "Translation, I look worse than when I look like shit… nice/"

"Smartass," I roll my eyes and shake my head. "Seriously though, you look terrible," concern is evident in my voice. She really does look awful, she looks tired and has lost weight.

"Well… I… uh… worked a day job for a few months with regular hours… now I got to get used to the night shift schedule all over again," she says not really convinced.

"Oh… yeah, I remember when I had to get used to the swing shift before getting back to the night… that was hell."

"Yeah…" she breathes out. I have the feeling that her sleep schedule isn't the only thing putting her in such a state of tiredness but I know better than to push her.

"I'm glad your back," I add after a long silence. She turns to me and smile and I can feel the wings of that damn stomach butterfly flapping a bit.

"Hey, you know Linds misses you, she told me you didn't have a chance to see each other at all since she's been back around."

"Yeah… the job… then the university…"

"It's okay don't worry, I'm just saying… you know, if you get a chance I'm sure she'd be glad to hang around with Brenda, Greg and you."

"Me too… I'll give her a call."

"Cool."

xxxxx

It took Greg a week, but he apologized and even invited me for dinner as a peace offering. Now that I'm in Sara's living room, waiting for Sara to come back from her bedroom while Greg is cooking, I can tell that though they seem to have worked out their issue, something has changed between them while I was away.

The way they are shy around each other, the way Sara sometimes pulls away from his touch, or the way he always looks like he felt guilty – I don't know, I have the feeling that it's not just the result of his lapse of judgement on the field.

We have a good moment together, but something's missing. I can't explain it but those two are naturally goofy so even when they are tired they are good company, this time… it felt like they were making effort to keep the mood light, like their hearts weren't in the jokes… their usual sparkle isn't there, they don't tease each other, they just aren't as energetic as they should be.

At first I thought that I was imagining things but, now I'm positive about the fact that things aren't as right as they seem. Maybe they've just finish their 'honey moon'. You know how it goes in relationship, you have a more or less long period of 'honey moon' when everything's beautiful, shinny and happy, there are rainbows, butterflies, unicorns and pink clouds. Then comes the time to test the strength of the relationship, that's the compromising period, both sides clash because it's hard to give power away, and each side wants to control the dynamics. Then finally there's the cruising period, sometimes it's on a calm, quiet ocean of oil, and other the ship faces tempests; but then as long as both sides are on board to stir the ship then things keeps working.

Greg and Sara… well truth to be told until their four days break just before their one year anniversary, they've pretty much been in honeymoon, and after that break, it's like they had jump right back into it. Now, however, it sure looks like the honey moon is over and done with, I can only guess that they are having a hard time with the transition to the cruise, or that they are cruising on a rocky – sinking? – ship.

xxxxx

"How was your date?" Nancy asks me.

I shrug. "Nice but no spark."

"Sorry about that."

"It's okay, you know the more I think about it, the more I'm convinced that dating isn't really something I want to do at the moment," I tell her honestly. "How is it going with Jules?"

The whole getting to Sam Braun by hurting his family episode made me realize that Julianne and I might have had a sour relationship, it wasn't the end of the world and seeing how she took a great care of my sister and her family, I've let go of my anger and bruised ego. It's not me being altruist, it's just me letting it go because there are more important things and well… it's water under the bridge.

"Good, very good," Nancy always get a silly smile and pink cheeks when she speaks of her girlfriend. "I met her mother last week."

"Nice."

"Yeah."

"How are the boys with her?"

"They are fine, it was a bit rough on the beginning but now they have found a compromise with Jules and they are getting along."

My nephews never really got over the fact that Richard – their father, abandoned the ship when they were young, and they've always rejected Nancy's dates, never trying, just pushing away. Apparently Julianne made it through, which is good because obviously this time Nancy won't be able to just give it all up without being badly hurt.

"Sam called again," she changes topic.

I sigh deeply. "What did he want?"

"To buy my next holydays, to make it up to me for all the trouble he caused. Poor thing is eaten alive with guilt," she snorts.

"Yeah well, may he rot."

"Cath… you know you'll have to see him again eventually."

"Yeah, but I'm still pissed at him," I reply honestly with barely covered anger.

"Whether you like it or not he's your…"

"My genitor, that's all he is. I have only one father and he's fine and healthy back in Montana."

"All I'm saying is, you can't runaway from him forever, and I know I won't be able to stand his constant phone calls to know if you're okay too much longer. I mean really, one call every two days… he's worse than mom and that's saying something."

I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose, she's right, even for Sam it's a lot to call that much. And he's the insistent kind so he won't stop until he gets what he wants. Yeah, I know, it shows that we share genetic.

"Fine, I'll deal with him," I sigh. "This week or the next," I add. "So, need any help?"

"Yeah, get busy with the tomatoes please," she points out the counter behind her with her thumb.

xxxxx

After months of hard work, I can say that Sara and I are finally picking up where we left off before I went to Montana. We've been spending time regularly together, we still have to work the physical closeness, but all in all, we're back to our last check point so to speak.

I'm lying down on Sara's couch, my legs over her laps and we are watching a movie, well more or less watching, the volume is low so when we get bored we talk.

"See, that's something I'll never get, now the principal character is telling you how much he's unlucky, cursed even, because trouble always find him… but that's a lie, he _went_ after trouble… nobody asked him to get in that freaking car to begin with!" I state.

"Yeah but if he hadn't then there wouldn't be any plot. I mean it's like a western, can you imagine the good guy telling the bad guy that the town is actually big enough for the both of them?"

I chuckle, "I know but still, I think most characters lack judgement."

"Well, we are humans, so we make mistakes."

"Yeah but…" I trail off, she has a point. "Okay, so you always have _that_ character who's going to tell you what you shouldn't do, and of course you'll do it… fine, it's okay because ultimately the choice is yours. However, what annoys me, is that the principal character always seems surprise when the bad things he was warned about happen… like, seriously, you can't try to get the viewer sympathy, just be a man and accept that the shit that was supposed to happen, just happened."

"Assume your choice," she nods.

"Exactly my point," I reach a hand to the coffee table to grab some popcorn that I stuff in my mouth.

I hear the door getting unlocked and don't bother looking, neither does Sara.

"Hey, ladies. I'm not staying, just getting a few things," Greg announces as he walks in. "How's the movie?"

"Good guys are good, and bad guys are bad," I reply.

"Sounds fun," he says before moving to the bedroom. He disappears for less than five minutes and comes back. "Alright, I'm going again," he comes near to us and kisses Sara's crown, letting his hand linger on her shoulder "I'll be at Jasper's if you need anything."

"Okay," Sara nods, glancing at him.

"Bye Cath"

I don't move from my spot, I just raise my arm and high five him before bumping my fist with his. "Bye Greggo."

I return my attention to the movie, not without noticing that Sara is lost in thoughts for a few seconds.

"I like how their windows always seem to have been made with crappy glass, I swear, they just bump their shoulders on is and it shatters into pieces," she states getting back in the room with me.

"That and the way they can walk away from an explosion with a single cut. My favorite is James, no matter what he goes through, his brushing stays neat… I so want to contact of his hairdresser."

Sara chortles and shakes her head. "His dry cleaner too, I wonder what they use to wash his suits but it makes wonders, because the suits always stay clean."

We keep on watching the movie without adding anything else. Eventually the movie bores me or just gets too ridiculous for me to bother paying any more attention to it.

"Is he alright?" I finally ask what's been nagging at me for a few days. "Greg," I specify.

Sara doesn't look at, thought her eyes are on the screen, I know that she's not watching the movie either and that I have her undivided attention.

"For the past couple of weeks or so… I don't know, on the surface he looks fine, but then I caught glimpses of him when he was alone and he looked like he was carrying the world on his shoulders…" I pause. "I'm not prying or anything… I'm just… you know, wondering if he's okay…" I look at the screen again.

"I guess not…"

"I mean, I'm sure that you probably know what's going on, I just hope that things are okay for him. He's always been in a good mood even in the most draining times, I mean more than once he was the one keeping the moral of everyone up…" I keep on.

"We broke up…"

"Yeah, okay. Like I said, I'm not prying, I care about him that's all… I know he's a big guy and that he can take care of himself, but… guess it's the mother in…" my words die on my throat.

Okay, let's rewind a bit, did she just say…

I sit up slowly, mouth agape not sure that I've imagined things.

"You heard me well. I said, we broke up," Sara simply replies her eyes still glued on the screen.

"What… wow… what do you mean?" I frown in confusion.

"I mean just that. Greg and I have broken up."

"When?"

"A couple of weeks ago or so…" she answers mechanically.

"I don't get it…" I let out in a whisper. I feel like I had been hit by a truck, I'm disoriented to say the least. "You were fine… I mean sure I noticed that you had a little tensed moment when I came back from Montana, but then everything went back to normal… you just… you've celebrated your two years together just three months ago… what happened?"

"What always happens… life," she shrugs completely detached, too detached to my taste.

"I'm… shocked… well…" I struggle to order my thoughts.

How can I not see something like this happening? After Greg's little loss of temper, months back, they had been at odd with one another for a week or so but then, the sparkle that had been missing since I came back was there again, and everything was fine… or so I thought. All this time, when I thought that they had sort things out, were they just better at hiding the fact that things were getting worse?

I've always known that they were good at hiding, I mean if it wasn't out of luck I probably wouldn't have known that they were an item, and the guys can't believe it because they don't see any signs. But hiding a break up? Or just hiding the fact that things are going downhill?

I mean sure when they celebrated their two years, Sara wasn't as glowing as for their first anniversary, but it sure looked like the flame was renewed even if it was in a tender way. Hell, things just seemed to be the way they should be. They're even still living together, so how can it be that they have broken up?

I still can't believe that I didn't notice anything.

"How… how are you?"

"I'm peachy, Cath… I'm living in the land of rainbows right now," she replies with unabashed sarcasm, before looking at me like I was slow witted. "As unbelievable as it might seem to you, I love him, so I can't say that this is a happy time," she says sharply.

Now I'm angry. "Okay, that was uncalled for. I know I've had my bad moments about the two of you, but I apologized and I made amend!" I stand up. I look away and breathe deep to temper myself before looking at her again. "And yes for the record, I know you love him, because believe it or not it shows… just like it showed that he was making you happy and just for that, I would never wish for things to turn sour between you two," I reply vehemently.

I sigh and start to gather my things. "I think I'd better go because I don't want to fight with you," I announce.

Sara still doesn't move and turn her head back to the screen, staring at the images in front of her without seeing them. I make my way to the door, unlock it and open it. I stop myself from walking out though.

This isn't about me…

This isn't about me, that's what I keep telling myself. I can't walk out on her, even if she's just pushed my buttons. I sigh and close the door, lock it back and let go of the knob. I drop my things on the floor and walk back to the couch. I sit next to Sara and wait, wait for her to join me again.

She still refuses to look at me, but her mask of impassivity slowly cracks and I can literally see the lines of her face contract with pain one by one; when her bottom lip starts to quiver, I pass my arm around her shoulder and bring her to me.

"Hey, come here…" I whisper before holding her in a comforting embrace; catching her before she completely breaks down. She starts to cry silently on my shoulder. "Maybe you'll work things out…" I tempt.

"No they won't…" she sobs. "We failed to work them out that why we're breaking up…" she says through her tears.

I hold her even tighter, and rock her gently; to see her suffer like this touches me deeply. I don't say anything anymore, I know form experience that there are not remedies or words to fix a broken heart.

* * *

**Once again, I know it seems like things are missing, just keep in mind that the blanks shall be filled in the sequel. Have a little faith in me :)  
**

**Thanks for reading  
**


	31. Chapter 31

**Hey, I know I've taken time but between work and health, Mojo kind of played hooky. And since I've just started my summer break… yeah I kind of taken things slowly. But I'm back now. So here's your new chap**

**Enjoy,**

**So ;)**

**Ps: **Immi** it was a joke but I made it work in the end, I even made it funny so… yeah thanks yet again for your brilliant idea (even though I had my doubt on this one :P )**

freddie, **thanks for the tips ;)**

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 31**

_Sara's POV_

"When's the last time you've slept properly?" Adam asks after observing me for the past ten minutes.

"It was when things were good, when my life wasn't in pieces," I reply. "Almost five months ago," I add with a shrug.

"Do you want me to prescribe you something?"

"No, that'd probably be the death of me. I already feel numb enough without anesthetizing myself completely. Thanks."

Adam has been on the first row of my slow decent into depression. He kind of imposed me to see him regularly again after my break down a few month ago. He was gentle about it, but he's been keeping a close eye on me, and I've let him, I guess it felt good to know that he had my back.

Catherine and I have had to work on our friendship again; she had left at the less opportune time for us, so to speak. I completely understand her need to isolate herself, but as a result we took a step back, now we're back to where we left things off; however I know that those past months I've been 'leaning' on Adam, more than I was leaning on Cath. A part of me thinks that it has to do with the fact that my main issues have been revolving around my couple – ex-couple – with Greg. It's true that Cath has accepted the fact that he and I were together, but in spite of all her efforts I know that somewhere she wasn't ever one hundred percent behind us, she just belonged to the people who believed – well Nick and Warrick still believe it, not that they'll ever be proven wrong now – that Greg and I were a joke, and that it was wrong of us to have that kind of relationship.

Sure I could talk to her about Greg and I, but I avoided it knowing her feelings about it. I didn't want her to feel like she had to endure anything.

"Fifty four," I state after a silence. "In two years, three months and some odd weeks together, there have only been fifty four days when I didn't sleep with Greg," I elaborate. "I'm talking about sleep here," Adam nods his understanding. "And that's counting our four days break, the conferences season and our recent 'rough' days."

I look away and gather my thoughts properly. "That's not much when you think about it," I pursue. "It's funny… well not really… but, I've always been one to cherish my personal space, it always took me a lot of effort, violence to myself even, to get into a regular sleeping arrangement with my past lovers. I wouldn't feel comfortable or at some point I'd just need my space again. I had to get used to their proximity."

"The weird thing is that, prior to be lovers, there had been times when Greg and I had shared a bed as friends and back then I had the same instinct to protect my space. Once we got lovers though… it felt like sleeping together was just the way things were, as if I had spent my life sleeping in his arms… it doesn't make sense, I know… but that's how it felt…not just for me, for him too…" I struggle to explain.

"I mean, I wouldn't sleep properly unless in his arms, and it was the same for him. His presence didn't stop me from having nightmares or insomnia, but… every time I'd wake up, he'd be there next to me again ten minutes after, taking me back into his arms, then we'd either sleep or talk… sleeping time was probably the only time we'd be…'clingy', I guess that's what you could say, though I don't like that term."

I rub my hands together as if to clean them. "He moved out twenty days ago… suffice to say that my sleeping pattern has been almost inexistent ever since," I pass a tired hand over my face and sigh heavily.

"Do you think you can handle being alone at the moment?" Adam asks.

"I'm not alone, Doc," I reply immediately with a snort. "I live in society, therefore I'm surrounded."

"Fair enough," the subtle smile tugging at his lips lets me know that he appreciate my witty comment. "Do you think you can handle yourself?" he rephrases his question.

He usually doesn't ask a lot of questions, it's always more about us confiding to him. I'll give him that though, after all this time we've been seeing each other he succeeded where every shrink before him had failed, he won my trust and respect. So now, when he asks questions I answer, even though it's still hard to for me to talk.

Yet, like every shrink I've had, he sometimes asks those questions that make me twist in my seat like it was on fire and I was forced to stay in it. A question like he just asked right now, there are no misinterpretation as to what he's asking me, and we both know it. I try to shift my position on the couch, but I know it's useless, I won't feel comfortable for a while.

"I've been handling myself pretty well so far," I reply after a while. He just stares at me which only accentuates my feeling of discomfort. I take a deep breath and decide to answer the question once for all. "I'm very depressed, not suicidal. And I haven't given into the urge to hurt myself lately," I add.

"I'm not putting your word in doubt Sara."

"I know… I just…" I growl at the sudden frustration. "I don't hate you just because you're a shrink… I hate you because somehow you've managed to make it through to me… to a point that I find too close for my liking."

"I didn't make it through, you let me get that close."

"So I'm the one to blame for that mistake?"

"You consider this a mistake?" Adam counters my question with another one.

"I don't know… it just pisses me off to realize and admit that I'd use you as my last safeguard as long as I can think clearly…" I say with a hint of anger filtering in my voice. "It means that I'd be willing to give away some control… to you of all people…" I snort and look away. I shake my head and compose myself again. "Okay, I'm going to blame that last display of weakness on my lack of sleep," I say as if I could just erase my last confession.

"You've lost weight."

"So I've been told."

"Sara…"

"I'm taking care of myself," I cut him off, I know what's coming but I don't want to hear him warn me. "As I said before I'm just a bit depressed. Now, I don't sleep much so any energy I get is drained away from me quite quickly. But I _am_ taking care of myself."

"Alright," he lets it go. I know he's just having my back, though I don't allow him to brush the subject, he and I are on a silent agreement, so as long as I'm convincing enough about the fact that I'm taking care of myself he won't push the alarm button.

xxxxx

I sit up on my bed. This isn't working, I can't sleep, I just can't. Usually I'd sit on my window ledge but even that isn't helping anymore. I haven't slept, since I don't know when, sure even on the last months with Greg, I didn't sleep much but at least we managed naps. Now, I'm lucky if I doze off for twenty minutes.

I sigh. I'm almost to the point of cursing Greg for changing my sleeping habits so quickly and easily. I'm about to get out of my bed when my phone rings.

Great.

Grissom calling me back to work is just what I need now…

"Sidle."

"_I can't sleep either,_" Greg's voice rings into my ear.

My breath is briefly caught on my throat, followed by instant relief. Greg and I thought that in order to get use to our new situation it'd be best for us to reduce our contact with one another to a minimum, at least for a little while.

"You assume I wasn't sleeping?" I come back, a small smile on my lips.

"_Were you?_"

"No… I haven't been since…"

"_Yeah… me too."_ No need to elaborate, we are on the same wavelength.

"What now?" I ask him after a long pause.

"_I know this coffee house that is open right now,_" he replies, and I can imagine him shrugging on the other side of the line.

My smile widens. I listen to him giving me directions and five minutes later I'm all dressed up and ready to go.

When I make it to the coffee house, he's already sitting at a table waiting for me. My heart flutters at the sight of him, he looks tired but his eyes light up as soon as he sees me; I can also say that he has lost some weight; he still has his beard, he's wearing one of the t-shirts I gave him a year ago; those weeks of separation just make this moment even more precious. I feel like I'm breathing freely for the first time in weeks.

I walk to the table, and he stands as I'm close to him. We stare at each other for a moment, hesitant as to what we should do. He smirks then leans in and delivers a kiss on the corner of my lips. I close my eyes at the contact and breathe out in relief.

"Hey," he grins at me.

"Hey."

Ever the gentleman he waits for me to sit before mimicking me. "I ordered us cocoa, you can get the next round."

"Cocoa's good."

We wait to be brought without exchanging a single word, just enjoying being in each other's presence again outside of the lab. Regardless to anything that has happened between us, I know with absolute clarity, that he has a place in my life that he won't ever leave, a place that is his, and his only no matter what happens from this point forward, I can't and I'll never spare him from my life.

Once we are served we both take sips of our beverage. "You owe me twenty bucks," is the first thing he says. "Remember that movie we watched when there was a storm?" he goes on.

"Yeah… it was on again yesterday, I watched it."

"I was right, it was the mother," he gloats. "And I suspect you knew it, that's why you distracted me," he smirks.

"Oh sure, complain now," I roll my eyes with a small laugh as I remember that night with him.

"No complain, just saying, I won," he sticks his tongue at me.

And that's how things get back on track, with a silly conversation about movie; simple, just like it has always been between us.

We keep on talking about everything and nothing, just getting back on the tracks of our friendship.

xxxxx

Having Greg back in my life brought back the balance I was yearning for, I still don't sleep much, but Greg and I made a habit to meet almost every day. Actually we never plan it we just go there and wait to see if the other will show up and so far we've always spent our 'night time' talking. We do need sleep every now and then so sometimes we sleet together… well in the same apartment, him on the couch and me in my bed… alright sometimes in each other's arms. The point is that I have finally found a new equilibrium and it does wonders for my sanity.

There's something else or rather someone else who helps me to slowly get back on my feet.

Catherine.

She has been making a lot of effort so I wouldn't mull too much over my break-up with Greg, to cheer me up. She made even more effort not to make it obvious that she was getting out of her way for me.

Heartbreaks and break-ups are always difficult – I know I'm not saying anything new here, but in spite of my past relationships, Greg is… my first real heartbreak, my first real love. Corny and silly I know… but I'm just being honest here. What I realized though is that pain is easier to endure when you have friends to force you to keep going.

"Hello!" Catherine singsongs while waving her hand in front of me.

"Sorry," I shake my head quickly.

"You're on orbit today."

"I wonder why, mini golf is so exciting," I reply with fake enthusiasm.

She rolls her eyes. "Come on, it's not that bad."

"No you're right. I thought I was depressed but that was _before_ we started playing mini golf. Now I'm officially hitting rock bottom. So technically it's not bad, it's worse."

"You're only saying that because you suck at it."

"That and because it's boring as hell."

"Whatever," she replies in a teenage way. "Anyway, it's your turn grouchy."

"Why are we here again?" I ask while positioning myself aside to my ball and start swinging my putter.

"Because the girls insisted on coming here?" she replies.

"They don't like mini-golf," I state. I truly don't understand why they were adamant to come here when they always whines when we ever proposed to play that game.

"It's boring, of course they don't like it," she sighs with unhidden exasperation, proof that she's having as much fun as I do which isn't much.

"Ah, so you admit it!" I exclaim, she just stick her tongue at me as an answer. "Where are they?"

"Ahead of us since you suck so much."

"Hey! You're not any better!"

"I'm only putting myself to your level so you're not left behind alone."

"Right," I shake my head. "You know, to me, it looks like they ditched us," I point out

Cath stops her swing in motion and looks at me with a frown. "Now that you mention it…"

We exchange thoughtful gazes. "Let's investigate," I propose excitedly.

"And leave our mini golf party unfinished?" she put a hand over her chest in an over exaggerated gesture.

I pout and make doe eyes which make her giggle, it doesn't take much convincing; we take our balls, putters and within minutes we find the girls. They are six holes ahead of us, but they are not alone; talking with them is a young girl, brunette with a bright smile, dressed with black pants and a light blue top, laughing with them; three holes behind them is a small group of six of five more girls being rather loud, attracting the attention of people around her.

"This is not as fun as I thought it'd be," I state with disappointment. "Nothing's happening."

"Are you kidding? There's a lot going on," Cath replies.

"Like what, fake grass growing?"

Catherine slaps my shoulder with the back of her hand and watches the group of teenagers evolve in front of us. "Just watch…" she shakes her head. "I know that girl…I drove her back home once… she's doing dance with Linds…Robyn, that's her name."

"Wow, so the girls are talking to a friend… exciting!" I say with uncovered sarcasm.

Nothing happens really, Linds, Brenda and Robyn talks and laughs, that's it; in fact they are so engrossed talking to one another that they are not playing anymore.

I'm about to ask Catherine to go to the arcades when suddenly squealing erupts from the group of girls getting the attention of Brenda, Linds and Robyn. For some unknown reason Robyn takes a step away from Brenda and Linds, a small step but a step still. The girls herd is all excited and focusing Robyn while Brenda and Linds are trying not to look like they had been interrupted by the new comers.

"Oh…" Catherine mutters. "It appears that Robyn is the popular girl but that her little court isn't too keen with Brenda and Linds. And it seems like Robyn isn't the kind to publicly break the social high school order."

I laugh. "The high school social order… you make it sound like a teenage version of the young and the restless…"

"I'm serious, high school is nothing more than the imitation of society in a crueller way. Just watch, Brenda and Linds are ill at ease, the others are purposefully pulling Robyn's attention away from them; Robyn is a bit bothered at the situation but doesn't do anything to change it."

"You make it better than the TV version," I comment with a giggle and try to see what she's talking about. Then the herd talks to Brenda and Linds, though I can't hear anything from where we are it is clear by their posture that it's not really friendly.

Could Catherine be right?

Another round of squealing is heard; the herd shifts its attention to three young men approaching.

"Here comes the drama," Catherine adds to no one in particular.

I should feel ridiculous for hiding behind and giant fake castle and watching teenagers being teenagers, but instead of that, for some reason I'm starting to wish I had pop corn. Maybe it's the way Catherine describes what's going on that makes it interesting, or mini golf really lowered my standards for the day as far as entertainment goes.

If I follow Cath's line of thinking, the guys belong to the popular kids and are friends with the herd, which mean that they are probably not friends with Brenda and Linds. In a few seconds it shows that two out of the three are siding with the herd. Linds and Brenda exchange look and decide silently to go; Robyn looks like she wants them to stay but she doesn't say anything when they start to walk away.

The herd and the boys seem to have other idea though which is strange because they make it clear that they don't really like Brenda and Linds. They start to play again, but it turns into a strange game of mean teasing between the herd and our girls. Brenda doesn't take one of the guys' jokes too well and looks very upset while the band of losers is laughing at her expanse.

"I'm going to beat the crap out of him," I say through my clenched teeth. I'm about to move when I feel Cath's hand holding my arm in a firm grip.

"Steady, you're not going anywhere."

"I am, I'm going to go over there and beat the crap out of him," I repeat firmly. "He just hurt Brenda," I see red. "Look at Linds… she's upset too, how can you tell me not to do something?"

"Because as much as I want to protect my baby I know that if I do anything she'll be mad at me, worse she'll feel humiliated," she reasons.

"What? That doesn't make any sense."

"Listen to me. If they were five or even ten I'd have been there to back them up in the second, but they are both teenagers and we have to trust them to be able to handle things, stand their ground and defend themselves on their own, even if it hurts. Those idiots who are mocking them are just teenagers being teenagers. If we do anything Linds and Brenda won't forgive us, they'll be pissed and the other kids will mock them even more. Please trust me and don't go over there."

I inwardly boil, my fists are clenched tight as I keep watching Brenda being the target of mockeries. "Fine," I cave in.

"Promise it," Cath adds, binding me to my own words.

"I promise," I sigh. "Distance works just as much anyway," I shrug. "Duck."

"What?"

"Duck," I advice her again before throwing my ball at idiot number one, I hear Cath cursing as she hides quickly behind the castle, I barely have time to see my ball it my target on his thigh before hiding myself as well.

"Sara!" she reprimands me in a hushed tone.

"What?" I look at her innocently. "I didn't go over there did I?" I add.

"You're unbelievable," she says sharply making big eyes, just like she does when she scolds Linds. I try to look contrite for a second or two. I cross my eyes and both Cath and I burst into laughter.

I grab the ball from her hands. "What are you doing?" she asks.

"I got fifty dollars saying I can do it again."

"Oh come on now, you're going to get us caught that's all."

"You woman of little faith," I smile wickedly, my heart racing with excitation, before looking over on the side of the castle if the group is still here and to my delight it is.

"Sara, don't seriously."

"You're right; it's riskier, so let's raise the stakes. If I hit my target you're taking me to dinner and I want something fancy," I inform her. "So, are you in or out?" I challenge her with a raised eyebrow.

"When you get caught, because you _are_ going to get caught, you're taking me out for a fancy dinner and a complete night out."

I beam knowing that I'm not going to lose this challenge.

"Watch and learn," I announce. Catherine leans over so she can see my shot. I look for a player not to far from the group, I wait for him to take a swing then I throw my ball and it lands on the back of the head of idiot number two. I hold my jubilation and hide again.

"Score," I smother my giggle.

"Hey!" comes an angry male voice.

Uh-oh.

I hold my breath, and swallow a curse.

"I told you, you'd get caught," Cath snaps with a hushed tone before putting her hand over my mouth to keep me from protesting. We glance over and the whole group is looking in our direction.

"Hey, Tiger Woods, this is a mini golf not the freaking US open!" my target shouts at the player behind him whom he thinks threw the ball. This time I press Catherine's hand over my mouth because I can feel a boisterous laughter coming and that would make us noticed.

"Shut up, let's get out," Cath manages to order through a small chortle.

We stand and start walking away without running in order to look inconspicuous, but we have a hard time containing our growing laughter. We manage to make it to the arcades and literally explode with hysteria.

"You totally owe me," I gloat.

"Okay, you got me it was fun," she wipes a tear from the corner of her eye. "Tiger Woods…" she starts but we just double our laughter and hold our ribs.

Once we catch our breath back we decide to go and play video games until the girls finally decide they want to go back home.

"Left!" I warn Cath who shoot on her right at the monsters on our screen. "Your other left, banana," I correct her.

"Hey, you didn't specify if it was mine or yours," she replies before shooting again.

"What do you mean yours or mine? We're both facing the screen so your left is the same as mine!"

"No! Your left is on my right!" she objects.

"Just… shoot," I shake my head and reload my fake gun.

"You two are in a lot of trouble!" the stern voice of Lindsey resounds next to me. She steps in front of me effectively making me lose my game. I put the plastic gun in its resting slot and narrow my eyes, alternatively looking at Linds and Brenda trying to play the ignorance card.

"Don't look at us like you didn't know what we are talking about," Brenda adds.

"I'm not sure…" I persist in feigning ignorance.

"Throw golf ball at the popular kids why don't you," Linds replies sharply.

"See, I warned you about this, but no you had to do it your way," Catherine mutters angrily next to me.

I snap my head in Cath's direction. "So much for support, back me up will you," I utter through clenched teeth with a pleading look. Now is not the time for her to jump ship.

"No, you're on your own," she says firmly.

"You didn't mind much when you were laughing you butt off earlier," I declare with a tight pout.

"Hey!" Linds interrupts us. "Focus, we're the one talking here!"

Cath and I look back at her with a start. "What were you thinking? You…" she grunts an tries not to raise her voice at us, even though she's upset, she does know that we are ultimately the adults – even though that might be questionable at the time.

"Baby, I want you to know that it wasn't my doing," Cath immediately cleans herself. "I admit I laughed, which probably encouraged Sara… but…"

"Oh great, thanks, thanks a lot for leaving me under fire," I throw my hands in the air.

"I warned you, Sara, and…"

"Mom…" Linds raises her finger. "Later," she then points her finger at me "Now, you listen to me," she says firmly to me. "First, you never _ever_ do that again, don't step into things like you did, no more golf ball or anything."

I look at my shoes really feeling the shame of being scold. "I'm sorry."

"Promise you'll never pull something like that again," Brenda adds.

"I promise," I immediately reply in a soft murmur.

"Then second…" Linds trails off and waits for me to look at her to continue. "Then second…" a smile tugs at the corner of her lips "Nice shots," she smirks.

"Yeah, thanks," Brenda backs Linds up.

I beam "Cool. You're welcome."

"What? How come she doesn't get in trouble?" Catherine whines.

"Those idiots deserved it," Linds shrugs.

"Well I took a bet with her so she'd do it again," Cath specifies.

"Oh now you back me up," I snort. "Unbelievable, just move out of my spotlight Judas, you're making a shadow."

Catherine punches me on the shoulder. "Let's go," Brenda says before starting to walk ahead with Linds.

"That's like, so unfair," Catherine mumbles.

"That'll teach you to stick with me next time," I laugh and stick my tongue at her.

"Whatever," she pouts.

xxxxx

I rub my hands over my pants and check myself in the mirror one last time before opening the door.

"Hey," I greet Cath.

She has a moment of hesitation before shaking herself. "Hey."

"I need to change?" I ask sceptically.

"No, that's good. You look good."

"You're sure… because I have an evening dress if it's not right. I just fancied a suit."

"Sar, it's great," she smiles.

"I kind of look under-dress compared to you. Nice dress," I comment on her black really well designed outfit.

"Thanks," she blushes. "Ready to go?"

"Lead the way."

I lock the door behind me and follow Cath downstairs, last weekend at the mini golf she lost our bet and tonight is the night she's treating me with a fancy dinner.

We climb into her car but she doesn't turn the ignition on. "I want our destination to be a surprise, so I'm going to cover your eyes."

I laugh softly. "You're kidding?"

"No," she shows me a black tie. "Silk, for your delicate skin," she jokes.

I roll my eyes and let her blindfold me. Once she's sure that I don't see anything she turns the radio on and gives life to the engine. I ask a few questions but she keeps our destination a mystery. After about forty minutes of driving she finally parks.

"Alright, let me make it around the car to guide you, don't touch the blindfold."

I comply and wait. The door opens, I undo my seatbelt and then Cath takes my hand in hers.

"Watch your head… there you go."

She locks the car behind us and starts guiding me, never letting go of my hand; though I'm wearing a vest I can feel alight breeze.

"Okay, there are five steps," she warns me, that doesn't stop me from stumbling a bit though; I think that unconsciously when blindfolded you're so afraid that the stairs aren't even in size and shape that you're over cautious which ends up with you almost tripping.

As silly as it is I move my head around trying to enhance my other senses and maybe get a hint of where we are.

Finally, Cath untie the blindfold and I'm surprised to say the least.

"This is… your house," I state with a frown, not really understanding why I'm facing her front door.

"Good call."

"I thought we were going to dinner, in a fancy restaurant?"

"Ah, ah. See… you never said anything about a fancy restaurant, you said you wanted me to take you to dinner, that's what I just did. And you wanted something fancy, that's why we are dressed up."

"Sneaky," I smirk.

"I know. If you allow me, I'll try to make up for it. After you," she opens her front door and I step in.

She closes and locks the door behind us, then she grabs my hand again and leads me to her backyard which she has enlightened with Christmas light on the porch and in the grass; not too far from the porch stands an open high tent sheltering a table covered with a white sheet, flowers and candles; I can only assume that the plates are made of porcelain, the glass out of crystal and the cutlery out of silver from where I am; next to the table is a small tray with a bottle of champagne bathing in a bucket full of ice.

Now, I'm impressed at the sight.

Cath walks to one chair and pulls it out for me. "If you would make me the honour to join me for dinner," she invites me.

Once I'm seated, I notice that my assumptions were right; Cath opens the bottle with a loud pop and pours some of the golden liquid in our glasses. "To… shooting idiots with mini golf balls," she toasts and I chuckle before raising my glass to hers.

"To shooting idiots with mini golf balls," I repeat.

"Cheers," she smiles brightly, and I don't know if it's the way the place is lit but there's a sparkle in her eyes making me happy to be here. "Well, I hope you're hungry, because there's plenty to eat. I'll be right back in a flash with the first course."

Hours slide as we are eating exquisite food and sharing animated conversations and laughter. Once we are done eating and the night gets too chilly for us to stay outside we go back in and share some strong alcohol to digest on her couch all the while never stopping to talk.

"That was… delicious… divine even," I sigh with contentment after a long pause. "And that dessert of yours… my goodness…" I bite my bottom lip just thinking about it. "Food should never be that good… that was orgasmic."

Cath suddenly chokes on her drink. "Who's in withdrawal now," she coughs.

We both laugh. "I had a great dinner, better than in a restaurant I must say."

"I'm glad you like your date."

"So… this is a date uh?"

"Yeah," she frowns as if it was an evidence "I'm all dressed up; I changed my backyard into a giant light bulb; I pull out the best dishes of my house; I slaved myself around the stove for an 'orgasmic' treat; you bet it's a date, I don't do this for a regular night," she simply shrugs.

I smirk. "It's a date then. Now, since I'm the guest of honour I get to choose what we're doing next, right?"

"What did your brain come up with Sidle?"

I just smile wickedly at her and stand from the couch. I go to her CD collection turn her stereo on and put some music on, it's kind of jazzy with a really good swing in it without being too energetic.

"Let's dance," I smile at her.

"Sar… no, you know I can't dance…"

"Me neither," I shrug. "Besides, you promised."

"I never did such a thing," she protests.

"Yes you did. Remember that night you were out with Julianne and Nancy to the birthday of one of their friends… I took you apart for a moment and asked you to dance… you decline but said 'maybe another time when we're not in public'."

"Do you record all our conversation on tape or something when I'm not looking?"

"I just have a good memory, even more when it works in my favour," I wink at her. "Come on."

"Aww…" she whines.

"Come on," I sing song and grab her hand to force her to stand up.

Sinatra and Bono, comes into the speakers, and start singing that they've got someone under their skin. Cath and I struggle a bit to find the right posture, and which one of us is to lead. We both look at our feet, and there is not a single step that is either coordinated or on time, over all, we're doing bad, but having fun.

"No, wait go this way…"

"Ouch… that was my toe…" I wince.

"Sorry…" she giggles. "I think we got it… just…"

"Alright… it's working… ooh that hurts," I smile with pursed lips as this time my foot crushes one of hers, a good thing we put ourselves at ease when we got back in and disposed of our shoes.

"It does…" she makes a funny face.

"Right…"

"We're a disaster," she laughs.

"You like understatement," I add. "Want to try a spin?"

"Now you're trying to kill me."

"On three… one, two…" I make her spin but slightly lose my balance so I bump on her other when she makes the full revolution.

"Oops, not a perfect spin, but I get credit because it's was perilous, right?"

"Definitely, that's what I call living on the edge."

We both laugh and have the same reflex to bend our heads as we do so, unfortunately our current proximity creates an unavoidable and quite blunt collision between our foreheads. We instantly take a step back from one another, hands on our now throbbing heads.

"Ow…ow…ow…" she winces.

"Pain…" I echo with my eyes tightly closed.

We look at each other, both holding our head and roar in amusement. "I feel a magisterial bruise coming," she says in between laughter, through my pain I find myself thinking that I like the glorious sound of her voice when she laughs without any restraint; I also like the way her eyes seem even more blue and are shining with that glint that is only hers; I find myself capturing this moment and wanting to make it last, and to make it happen, again, often, very often, because her joy is contagious and I swear I can feel something in me fluttering, I feel light and ecstatic and it's a great feeling.

"Come here, let me kiss it," I instruct her with an apologetic tone. I cup her face and let my lips brush the small bump on her head.

"I never would have thought that when they called you hard headed they meant it literally," she jokes which only sends us into another fit.

"Oh shut it… I'm hurt too."

I slap her lightly on the shoulder and she starts to tickle me in retaliation. I struggle but eventually take the advantage and embrace her with my arms so I restraint her moves. We struggle gently and still laughing, every now and then our laughter die on her lips and we stare at each other for a second or two, breathing the same air, then we laugh again.

"You know, for someone who butchers medium pace songs you pretty much rocket slow dancing," Cath mocks me.

"Hard to call that swaying dancing but… guess you wouldn't know the difference…"

"Oh you…" she tries to tickle me even more.

The moment is definitely broken when her cell phone rings. It's a special number I can tell that much because the ring tone is one I have never heard; I can also tell by her fading smile that she's not happy at whoever's calling.

"I'm sorry, I got to get that…" she says before looking for her phone. "What is it?" she answers with a sharp tone. She sighs heavily. "Hello Sam, what is it?"

Now I understand the quick evaporation of her good mood.

"Are you freaking kidding me? You just called at past 10 p.m. just to say 'hello'?" she says in disbelief.

I decide to give her a little privacy and go to the backyard and seat at our now deserted table. Even from the distance I can hear Cath's strained voice, the sharpness of her voice and her grunts of frustration.

"Well didn't it occurred to you that I wasn't returning your calls for a reason?..." she explodes.

Go figure why but I'm projected back to my childhood, hearing my parents arguing, feeling that old sting in my chest telling me that things won't get better, that soon they'll get worse; wishing to be anywhere but where I am, wishing for silence and peace; my throat seems to tightens on its own like I had swallowed a ball, I close my eyes and force me back into the present, no one is going to hurt me tonight.

"I'll think about it… I said I'll think about it, it means that when I'm calmer I'll ponder everything… now quit pressuring me… I'm not one of your clients… just… Sam for goodness' sake!... we'll see…" Cath is losing the battle to keep her temper in check. "I'm hanging up… whatever… again… I'll think about it…"

Cath's voice fades, I give her some space to deal with the aftermath of her call. After a minute or two I go back in and find her on the couch with head in her hands. I seat silently next to her, but keep a distance between us, letting her coming back with me in her own terms.

She looks at me with eyes full of sadness and anger, the earlier glint long gone. "I just ruined everything, haven't I?" she states with a sad smirk.

"Well, I can't think of a better way to end up a date than pillow therapy… you actually win extra points for originality," I deadpan.

She chuckles and the glint comes back in her eyes, not as bright and warm as earlier, but still there.

"Now, where are my shirt and shorts?" I ask, standing up.

I've slept over at Cath several times, mostly in between shifts or just after a night with Linds and Brenda, enough for me to leave some extra clothes, you know, might as well be comfy.

"Follow me," she simply says before taking the lead.

I allow Cath to have my extra batman shirt, and I think she appreciate the gesture, knowing that it's my favorite to sleep with.

We lie down in bed, in an upside down position; my feet are next to her head, just so we can face one another while lying on the pillows behind our backs. Cath starts to pour her spleen almost immediately, talking to me about Sam and her relationship with him. I listen religiously, just letting her getting it all out.

"… I hate being related to him most of the time you know?" she shakes her head. "It kind of makes me laugh bitterly to have him serving me long speeches about him being my father, about him wanting to be there for his family and such… it feels like a sick joke coming from him."

"I mean…" she trails off and looks away. "He was never there for me when it counted…he gave me my first doll as a little girl and then literally fell from the face of the Earth. Then I came in Vegas, and things didn't pan out the way they should have, I was in the jam and I had to fend for myself… do you know what he did then? He pimped me out! Can you believe it? The only thing he found to do for his daughter is to offer her to work in her classy clubs… sure I was grateful then but to learn years later that he knew that his blood was running in my veins all that time and never once try to be a father… I'm not saying he should have handed me anything on a platter, but he could have help me to do something else… to get settled… hell encourage me to make studies instead of selling my body to the eyes of the big men in the city…"

She snorts bitterly. "So yeah, when he starts to give me a 'you know I just want us to catch up and be a family', I feel like punching something hard… yet call me stupid because blood doesn't lie and somehow I want to believe that he has changed, and since I know the truth I can't lie to myself or to Linds… so I think to myself, give him a chance… and… sometimes… I act all strong and independent, but when I was really under water thanks to Eddie's financial management I didn't spit on the money Sam gave me… it wasn't millions but it was a big help… and the simple fact for me to have cash that check… it just bound me to him… like it or not… sure he won't blackmail me or anything… but I fell for the 'I lost two sons already, I don't want to lose a daughter' speech…"

"I let him in… taking that check meant that I let him in… I curse myself but when I see… the way he's with Linds… so attentive and… childish and thoughtful, like a grandfather… and at times like those I hard for me to be mad at him," she sighs heavily.

"Then you got things like last time happen, and all the family he supposedly cherishes is in danger… and I feel pissed off, at him but mostly at myself… because I'm the one who brought things upon us… it's in my blood…"

Tears pearl at the corner of her eyes, she wipes them away, but some manage to silently run free on her cheeks.

"You'd think that after watching him hurting my mother as often as he did, and after realizing what he did to me or the fact that he probably killed someone, I'd know by now that he's bad news… guess that my brain can't process that information right… I guess the only reason I keep giving him a chance is because I can deal with disappointment and as much as I hate it, he's good with Linds. I warned him though, if he ever let her down for whatever reasons it'd be the end of us… I've watched Linds being let down by the people she loves too many times, and I'm counting myself in the lot because sometimes my work did came before her even though it was so I could keep on giving her the best I can… I'm not blind, Linds is a tough shell to crack now, she's guarded and she always expects that things will turn for the worse… and I have this gut wrenching fear that one day Sam will take what he built with her away from her… if it happens then to hell with it…I'll never speak to him again," she balls her fists.

She looks away and gets lost in thoughts.

"Honestly, is it just me or is my blood related family is the new definition of 'screwed up'?" she suddenly asks.

I shrug. "I couldn't say, you're asking the girl whose father abused his family in every way possible and whose mother's in jail for murder. The only thing I could possibly say is join the club," I deadpan.

Cath looks at me and laughs but then tries to contain herself. "I'm sorry… I don't mean to be insensitive about it… but when you put it like that my family isn't that bad…" she chuckles in spite of her effort not to. "I shouldn't laugh…"

I chuckle myself. "Please laugh away, that was my intention," I reassure her.

We relax and chortle a bit, I'm glad that I found the right thing to say at the right time. She starts to look at me and it's obvious that she has a question burning her lips but is hesitant as to whether or not she should ask it.

"Shoot," I simply say making her grin.

"Do you have any good memories with your family?"

"Yeah… I do," I smile softly. "Of course when I think about my childhood they aren't the first things to come in mind but they are there. I remember all of us playing in our yard, cooking, laughing… playing board games… I remember my parents reading to us or just telling us family stories… I remember some of our going out as a family…" my smile grows founder as I can picture those memories clearly. "Even when things were at the worse… there were good days…"

"It's funny because as a teenager and as a young adult I tried my hardest to forget it all… now… I'm forcing myself hard to remember, to find those memories and I cherish them preciously and keep them in a secured place… I guess I just need to know that it wasn't all bad… and when I have sleepless nights or rough times, I hold onto those memories like I'd hold onto a life raft," I confess.

"That time I went to Cali after our session?" I wait for Cath to nod before going on. "My encounter with my mom taught me the benefit to let go of my anger and face it all… to accept that I can't control the past nor change it…" I mark a pause and sigh. "I don't caution what my father put us through… and if he was still alive I'd never forgive him… yet, as crazy as it sounds… there's still a tiny part of me that loves him, because I remember the good times… the times he was a good father and I know that if things had gone differently in his adult life he'd still that man who's good at heart…"

My eyes meet Cath's and I can see that she's not judging me or thinking me weird. "In spite of all the negative feelings, the pain, the resent… I fight to preserve that tiny part of me… because…my father's a part of me… I need that tiny piece in my heart to go on in life… it's weird and yet it makes sense… at least to me," I shrug.

"Which stories?" Catherine asks referring to my earlier confession.

I can't help but smile, I think I've waited all my life to be able to let someone in and not regret that choice, Greg and Cath are among the rare persons on that list and I'm grateful for them to be who they are, but also to be able to count them as friends.

"Everything really, from Dr. Seuss to Poe."

"Really?"

I chuckle. "Yep… The Tell-Tale Heart freaked me out for many nights," I laugh.

We keep talking until Morpheus start to claim us both.

An undetermined time later, wavering between consciousness and sleep, I wrap my arms around the body next to me and bring it closer to mine, blindly kiss the skin and inhale its scent before letting myself drift back into the land of Morpheus.

Something immediately sets me off though. The scent is not right… it's too… fruity when it should be slightly musky. I blink my eyes open and am taken aback at the long hair blond hair in front of me. Then it hits me that it's Cath next to me and not Greg.

I immediately untangle myself and shift position so we are back to back with some distance between us. My lips are burning and my heart is racing, moving itself straight into my throat.

I don't know what unsettles me the most, the fact that my reflex is a sign that I still miss Greg terribly or the fact that a part of me doesn't mind that Catherine was the one at the receiving end of my gesture.

* * *

**See? It's coming… I told you I had a plan so keep on having faith in me, we're close.**

**Thanks for reading**


	32. Chapter 32

**Hey everybody, thanks for your reviews, you made my day. I'm back with more, **

**Enjoy,**

**So ;)**

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* * *

Chapter 32**

_Catherine's POV_

I had a date with Sara.

A real date.

And it was a mix of disasters and good moments, all in all it was perfect. Yes, I made it a date long before admitting it even to her that it was one, but that doesn't matter.

Of course it was all platonic, but as much as it was good it made my feelings stir back to life with vengeance. When I came back from Montana I had dealt with them and put them at rest. Even when Sara and Greg broke up I kept them in their grave. Only we've started to hang out more, getting closer because of that break up, making me wish for more.

That date… well that was the last needed breath to set everything ablaze again. That date… we shared a lot more than a meal, we came to share laughter but most importantly intimate conversation; that impromptu pillow therapy ignited a connexion between us so strong and deep, that I fell for Sara, for the second time.

I could just be stuck in the same spiral of unrequited feelings all over again, but the thing is that ever since that date, we have moments. We share flickering moments where I know for certain that a thought about us crosses her mind. But then again every time she seems to realize it she puts back the safety distance.

Alright, it doesn't look like I'm in a better position compared to the first time I dealt with my feelings but, I see the details that make the difference. We are both single, the chemistry is there…

I could simply act on my feelings. I won't, at least not now, not until I know she wants it. She's the one who has to make 90 per cent of the distance. It can't be any other way, because if I lead the way I'll most likely be a rebound and that's not what I want. So I need her to be willing to let go of her feelings for Greg and be willing to give me a chance.

I'm not blind, this heartbreak is tough on her, and it's more than obvious that they shared something really strong that I'll probably never fully grasp; and though they seem to be moving on nicely I'm not naïve enough to believe that their feelings are dead and buried; they are still there, pending, and the possibility of them getting back together is still real.

Thus, in a spirit of self preservation, I'll wait patiently for Sara to have more than glimpse of thoughts of us together.

Feelings suck… but that's nothing new.

xxxxx

"Hey, can I speak to you for a moment?" Sara asks from the threshold of my office.

"Sure, come on in," I invite her.

She closes the door behind her and comes to seat in front of me. I put my pen down and give her my undivided attention.

"Uh… Brenda's birthday is in two months… and I wanted to make something special… like a party… we never made a party but I think she's at that age… you know she could enjoy a surprise… and I thought that Linds could help as to who to invite and such…" she loses tracks of her thoughts for a second and then comes back in the room. "The reason I'm telling you this is because I'd need you to do me a favour."

"Anything," I reply without any hesitation.

"Would you mind if I made the party at your house? Brenda is over at mine quite often and there's no way she won't notice that something is happening… so…I thought that if it was at your house the odds where better as far as the surprise goes."

"Sure, no problem," I smile.

"Great… we can brainstorm about it after work if you don't have plans… I just thought about it and since I didn't want to forget I came to you right away."

"Sar, it's fine," I chuckle.

"Cool, I'll leave you to your paperwork then."

She smiles and leaves, my heart makes a somersault and I sigh… one small smile and I feel like this… that should be a warning enough for me not to pursue anything… I mean I could die from getting more, if that ever happens.

I shake my head, forbidding myself to go into fantasy land. It's not the unrequited part of the thing that hurts, no what hurts are the fantasies. So, I force myself to keep a clear head at all time.

Don't you ever feel like karma was messing around with you? Always making you fall for what you can't get, at least not easily. Yet you keep wanting it telling yourself that nothing that is worth it is ever easy.

Love stinks.

xxxxx

"How's the vic?" I ask as Sara and I walk into our new crimes scene.

"Shaken and bruised mostly," she informs me.

Our victim, Lee Bennett, a young woman of twenty four has been roughed up by a stranger, who entered her store, turned it upside down before hand yet didn't take anything on his leave. The video surveillance didn't show much if anything and the crime scene being a store we're going to find lots of traces that won't be usable for 98 per cent of it.

Lee, doesn't remember anything, except that her attacker is an average looking guy with green eyes, raven hair and a piercing on his eyebrow – needless to say we don't have a pool of suspect but an ocean. Sara and I process the scene very thoroughly knowing that we'll get very little to work with, and that unless the perp reiterates chances are that he'll get away with it.

Getting back to the lab we process as much as we can, but we are called on another case. As things goes, I notice that there's that eerie buzzing in the lab, the one of busy nights, the one saying that we'll most likely all pull a double.

Those nights bring us all closer, we're a team so we make sure everybody's at the top; we try to share a break together just to refill our batteries; I learnt to appreciate those nights, as draining as they are, they give you that rush… I couldn't describe it accurately but it makes me love my job.

xxxxx

"Scramble eggs special okay?" Sara asks.

"At this point the sole of my shoes with some seasoning is fine."

"Want me to wake Linds up so she can cook?"

I can't help laughing. "You're mean."

"Just kidding."

"Scramble eggs are fine."

While Sara cooks us some breakfast I clean a bit around. Linds is sound asleep and she doesn't have class today which is good because it means that I can sleep right after having eaten something.

Ever since our date, there are some gestures I am allowed to do, as long as I don't make them obvious or bring them in conversation. For instance as we're eating breakfast and talking, facing each other around the counter, both our hands are facing one another. I absentmindedly brush my fingers along the back of Sara's hand, and I can idly move my fingertips on her skin and she doesn't seem to mind. But as soon as she brings her eyes on it, she'll simply change position subtly to stop it.

It's not the first time I do that. Or for instance when we watch a movie I can hold her hand, but same thing, when she realizes it she'll put her hand away. I couldn't if it means something or not, just that I'm walking on a thin line, and those are the signs letting me know that consciously or not a part of her might want something more with me.

I don't dwell on anything though, just enjoy the little things for what they are, little things.

Once we're done eating we sit on the couch and watch cartoons while we digest a bit. I must admit that I was watching the news before, but Sara likes to watch cartoons, it allows her to disconnect herself and relax before sleeping; something she needs to reduce the chance of nightmares.

I allow myself to hold her hand in a loose way, her hand twitches now and then but she never takes her hand away. Sara is beat today though, after four cartoons her lack of laugh or giggle indicates me that she's already asleep. I take a few second just to watch her sleep, then as much as I hate doing it I shake her awake.

"Sar…" I murmur she gains conscience almost immediately, she's half asleep but a bit alert. "Let's go to bed… come on…"

I tighten my grip on her hand stand up and pull her on her feet. She drags herself slowly behind me. We go in my bedroom, I let go of her hand to take her change closes, blue boxers and her batman shirt. "Here, change," I instruct her softly.

"Want… batman…" she mumbles sleepily, her eyes half close.

"I know, don't worry," I smile at her adorable sleepy self.

I'll never get her obsession about her batman shirts, but it apparently the only ones she can sleep in. I leave and go to the bathroom to change. When I come back, Sara is already on the covers. I make my way to the bed and lie next to her, since she's on her back, I snuggle and use her as a human pillow, and her heartbeat lulls me into sleep within minutes.

I'm awoken by the sound of a cell phone that isn't mine, Sara stirs awake and I roll away to allow her to stand if she needs to.

"Hello?" she answers with a low thick voice. "Sara Sidle speaking… what… wait… oh… yeah, yeah… I'm coming right away," the alarm in her voice forces me to shake myself awake.

"What is it?" I ask.

"I need to go to the hospital right now," her tone is urgent, all sleepiness now gone.

"What?" I stumble on my feet while she's dressing up quickly.

"It's Brenda, she's at the hospital, her appendix burst… they need me to sign papers… where are my fucking shoes?" she speaks while looking around frantically, still a bit disoriented by her recent sleep.

"I'm coming with you, they're in the entrance."

I wake up Linds quickly and drop her off in her pyjamas at Nancy's; then I drove Sara and I at the hospital. She's silent next to me, but no matter what I tell her she doesn't settles down, worry obviously eating at her.

It takes us less than five minutes in the hospital to find Brenda, we see her and she's in a lot of pain, Sara signs the papers that need to be signed and holds Brenda's hand as long as she's allowed before Brenda is taken away to surgery.

We wait in a corridor on uncomfortable chair, I'm holding Sara's hand. I've tried to reassure her a few times but it's like something had snapped, she's unreachable, I know that though she can hear me, my words don't make it to her brain. I can understand her worry, even though it's a standard operation there are still risks.

"Hey, I came as soon as possible," Greg announces when he arrives about twenty minutes later. I'm surprised to see him, surprised and intrigued. He frowns when he takes in Sara's state. "You're okay?" he asks me first.

"Yeah…" I immediately let go of Sara's hand for some reasons feeling like I'm doing something I shouldn't. I think he knows I'm about to ask how he knew about Brenda because he answers my silent question.

"Sara sent me a message. How's Brenda?"

"In surgery right now."

Sara is still watching her shoes oblivious of his presence. Greg kneels down to be at eye level with Sara who doesn't move. He frames her face with his hands and forces her to acknowledge his presence. He's softly gazing at her, but is obviously worried.

"Moon?" he says gently. "Moon, look at me," he asks again. I've never heard him you pet names with Sara before, jealousy inappropriately rise inside my chest, because right now he's closer to Sara than I am.

"Good, now I want you to listen to me. She's going to be okay, Brenda is going to be okay, _everything_ is going to be okay," he says, basically repeating what I've been telling her many times before his arrival. Unlike me though he makes it through, Sara suddenly starts to shakes, Greg wraps his arms around her and holds her tight as she's crying. "Shhh… it's okay… it's okay," he repeats while rubbing her back gently in a soothing way.

I look away and hold back my misplaced anger. No matter how close I can be with Sara, it seems like it's not anywhere near where Greg is. I'm mad that he made it through her when I should just be grateful that he did; I'm mad that she didn't react to my reassuring words, when I should be glad that someone can ease her distress.

xxxxx

Brenda's operation went fine, but ever since that day Sara has been acting weird. No, not weird, I think something is bothering her but she's putting a lot of effort into hiding it. Or maybe she just has a lot in her mind and doesn't want to talk about it. I don't push, I know that eventually she'll talk to me, if she wants to that is.

In the past two weeks we've had to face the same types of case at work. An instable man is out there, roughing women up, he doesn't still anything, just attacks them without any apparent reason all the while ranting incomprehensively. The most frustrating part of it all, in the whole six cases, no victims was able to give us a description, the video we got of the perp weren't enough to show us much and when we managed to have prints or traces of some kind he's unknown of the system. The victims don't know each other, they don't have any acquaintances or activities in common, so even the attacks are random.

"What are you thinking?" I ask Sara as she's staring at evidence wall.

"They all look alike… roughly, but still." She states with a frown.

"You're thinking serial?"

"I'm just saying they look alike, so this guy is targeting his victims, the thing is we don't know the criteria. It's not about their hair colour or eyes colour, it's more about their faces… I don't like it, because he seems to be angrier each time…"

"We have to catch that guy and soon."

"Yeah," she sighs tiredly.

"We'll catch him," I say as convincingly as I can. I know that right now it doesn't look like it, but for me thinking otherwise is like giving up and it's way too early for me to admit defeat.

"The question is, will we catch him before or after he escalates to rape and murder," she replies flatly. "I'm going in the break room to get a bottle of water, you want something?"

"No, I'm good."

xxxxx

I think Greg and Sara are back together. If it's not the case I think Greg is trying to make his way back in Sara's life – not that he ever left, I meant back in her life as a lover. I don't know…

He's just keeping a close eye on her; always there not far from her; always asking her if she needs anything. I catch him looking at her when he thinks no one is paying attention; patting her shoulder discreetly at times. Just the other day she declined coming over for breakfast to go at Greg's, because his parents were in town. It's all about small details, but my instincts are seldom wrong. And the pleading way in all his gesture let me know that he was at fault for their break-up.

I've seen his look on Eddie so many times that I don't need much imagination to figure what happened between them. And though they have obviously worked things out, Sara is either not ready, or is not sure if she wants to get back with him.

I know I shouldn't be jealous, after all they have history together.

I shouldn't, but I am…

I can understand that she loved him, and I know their story meant a lot to her; it drives me crazy that not only he may have treated her bad but worse that in spite of everything she might give in again. When I'm here, waiting and willing to offer her something…anything.

Maybe I'm just getting the wrong ideas, after Brenda's little trip to the hospital I've learnt that Greg was probably the one to really get through to Sara. And she's been down, so… maybe he's just being there for her as a friend, but since her and I are getting closer I'm getting a bit jealous.

I sigh deeply and focus again on the file in front of my eyes.

xxxxx

"Greg… oh sorry," I step out of the lab he's in when I noticed that he's on his cell phone.

"… just give me a call to know you're alright…" he finishes. "Sorry, Catherine. Did you want something?"

"Yeah, a case came in, we're together."

"Okay, I have to take something in my locker, you go ahead, I'll be right behind you."

Greg is preoccupied, and not in a work mode, how can I tell? We have twenty minutes ride to our scene and he has been playing with his cell phone all the way.

"Everything's okay?"

"Uh?"

"Is everything okay?"

"Yeah. What's our case?"

"419."

"Okay," he nods, and doesn't add anything.

While we're on the field he stays in retreat and alternates between checking his phone and looking at his watch. Now, I don't know what's wrong with him, but he's not into a work mode right now and that's bad, there are evidences to be collected, a scene to process and if his head is not in the game then he's as useful to me as a shot in my foot.

"… me again, please call me back," he finishes his conversation over his phone. He passes a hand over his face.

"What is it?"

"Nothing, I'm sorry, you need me inside or you want me to do the perimeter?"

"Right now just knowing that your head is in the game will do."

"Perimeter it is then," he replies sharply and starts to walk away, I grab his wrist and force him to look at me.

"This is not training, so stop acting like a teenager with your phone," I say sharply before walking back to the house to the officer waiting for me.

I work inside quite irritated by Greg's behaviour. It's not like him to be so distracted, I could have taken it if we were in the lab doing paper work, but not on the field, so many things could happen, not even mentioning the tampering with evidence.

An hour or so goes by before I go out again to ask Greg to join me in. I don't see him at first so I call out guessing that he's on the other side of the house. "Greg?"

I call two more times and to my surprise it's not Greg coming back around but Nick.

"You need some help inside?" he simply asks.

I get over my surprise. "What are you doing here and where is Greg?"

"He's gone, I'm here to cover for him," he replies as if everything was normal but by his face I know that he realise how bad what he just said is – at least for my temper.

I feel an incommensurable burning rage like I've never felt before. Not only Greg bailed out but he didn't have the decency to tell me about it. It's not professional, it's disrespectful…

I clench my jaw so hard my teeth cringe against each other. I breathe deep and try to fight the heat burning my face. I don't want to explode at Nick's face and there's still work to be done.

"Get the ALS lamp and join me inside," I say with a low controlled voice.

I channel my anger and my last thought on the matter is that I'll kick Greg's ass so hard my shoe will be stuck up his colon for a long time.

xxxxx

I don't hear nor see Greg during the rest of the shift when we come back to the lab. I don't try to call him because considering the actual level of my anger right now, if he was to hang up on me I might just commit a murder.

I think I'm sending off bad waves, which is good because everyone has the good sense not to upset me in any way.

When it's time to go home I decide that since Linds is taken to school by Nancy, I'm going to surprise Sara with a breakfast at her place. There's nothing like spending time with her to relax, she knows how to make me laugh and really take my mind off things.

I drive to our favorite place and order some food, then I drive to her place, my mood already lifting up a bit in anticipation.

I ring her bell and my smile immediately fades away, and nausea rise in my throat as Greg is the one behind the ajar door, bare chest and about as happy to see me as I am to see him.

Sizzling anger fuel my veins again; I refuse to let my brain form the reasons why he left a scene in the middle of his shift and ended up bare chest in Sara's apartment.

I've officially lost my appetite.

"Hey…"

"Greg, I don't think you can fathom how pissed off I am right."

"I'm sorry, I left you at the scene, it was an emergency…"

"I can see that…" hard to work when your groin is on fire, I mentally add.

"It's not what you think."

"Spare me," I cut him. "Is Sara here?"

"She… she needs rest right now."

"That's fine I'll wait for her to wake up," I take a step toward the door, but he blocks the door, silently forbidding me to go further.

"She needs rest Cath. I'll tell her you came by."

"Rus?..." Sara's weak muffled voice comes from behind him and he sighs. "Rus?"

"Yeah… go back to bed sweetie… I'll be right with you."

I simply snort. "Not what I think, right…" I shake my head with a bitter laugh.

"It isn't… but believe what you want," he says tiredly.

"I don't give a damn about what's going on, you treat me like you did again, leaving the scene like a fucking thieve, then so help me you'll never work as a CSI again, let alone in this lab," I seethe.

I'm boiling, but my mind is unable to process anything at the moment, and walking away is all I can do not to seem hysterical. As petty as it is I do know that I'll be making Greg pay at work, just to deal with everything.

xxxxx

I don't see Sara for the next two days, when she comes back to work she does look worn out, and Greg is all sweet parading around her.

I get assigned with Greg and there's a dumpster to process on our scene, I can tell you that I won't step a foot in it and he will have some smelly hours ahead of him.

He knows I'm punishing him, I know that as well, he's apologized yet again and if I've accepted his excuses, I can't exactly say that I've swallowed down that pill.

Greg doesn't complain, but it's for the best. He knows that he messed up and that he'll be on my shit list for many more days.

I'm in a lab making different tests when there's a knock on the door.

"Hey there," I turn around and see Sara with a shy smile on her lips. "We're ordering food, it's your turn to choose."

"Pizza," I reply almost immediately.

"I'm sorry I didn't call you back during those last two days… I was really not well."

"It's alright, don't worry," I dismiss her as images of a bare chest Greg comes back in my mind.

"We're still on for next Saturday?"

"Of course," I smile a bit. We've been planning Brenda's surprise party for months now, I'm not about to ruin her birthday because I feel moody, jealous, and bitter.

"What flavour?"

"What?"

"Your pizza."

"Hawaiian, please."

"Alright, see you in the break room at lunch break," she finally says before walking away.

I know I was cold, and I don't really have any reason to be mad at her. Maybe she was really not feeling well and Greg was just helping; but I can't really say that it's evident from my point of view.

xxxxx

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!"

The twenty odd persons in my living room all scream as Brenda steps into the backyard. She's a bit taken aback but a smile quickly lights up her face. There are rounds of hugs and Brenda is obviously overwhelmed but happy.

We get the party started and spend the afternoon alternatively laughing, playing with Brenda and her friends, eating, just having a good time really.

I take a breather and sit on the porch, just enjoying the sight. My gaze wanders around and I catch Greg wrapping his arms around Sara's waist from behind and holding her tight against him. He whispers a few words and she grins a bit. She pats his cheek, turns her head a bit so she can deliver a sweet kiss on his mouth.

I look away, feeling like I had been punched. I decide to have another beer and take care of my guests, after all it's not like I hadn't seen it coming.

When the light outside fades and the evening air gets really chilly, everyone goes inside, Greg and the boys brought their interactive console, so everyone is laughing, and playing video games, those who don't play are just chatting animatedly.

When I'm sure that no one is lacking anything be it food or drink I go back on the backyard porch and sit down on the steps looking the declining sunset.

The door opens behind me after a moment, I turn around, ready to offer any help, but Sara lets me know that everything's okay inside. She sits next to me, her own bottle of soda in hand.

"Thank you," she says after a long silence. "Brenda really loved it."

"Well, we share the credit remember?" I snort a bit.

"Yeah, but still it wouldn't have been possible without you."

"You're welcome," I nod and take a sip of my drink. "So… you're back together?" Sara looks at me with a frown. "Greg and you…" I elaborate.

She chuckles a bit. "No, we're not."

"Oh… I just saw you kissing earlier, I thought…"

"That… was nothing," she shakes her head pensively. "To be honest, I don't think him and I will ever be back together."

"Really?"

"Yeah… would it bother you if we were back together?" she asks.

"The other he stopped me to come in and see you…" I ignore her question.

She winces. "Sorry about that… he can be really over protective sometimes but it's not to be mean. I was really not well and… he was just looking after me, you just happened to drop by when he was changing clothes."

"To be honest, I was pissed."

"Nothing happened that day," she adds almost as if she was justifying herself to me.

"You need to explain… that's just how I felt, add to that the fact that the day had been bad at work and that it looked like Greg had ditch me for a roll in the hay, from my point of view I had legitimate reasons to be angry."

She chortles. It's funny, sometimes I think about how things were before now and the fact that I would have never explained my feelings, talked about them so openly with her before. Today, I just talk about it as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

"We had our shot, and I think that he and I both know that there's nothing that we could possibly do to make us work as a couple again. We do love each other, but it's nothing like we used to when we were an item."

I'm about to say something when the doors open again.

"Ladies, sorry to interrupt; Cath, the mother of Robyn called, she said she'd be around in five minutes to take some of the last teenagers. Also, we were wondering if we could order food in," Nick asks.

"Right, I'll be inside in a min then and order anything you want."

"Cool," he beams before heading inside again.

I stand up and straighten my dress a bit, just as I'm about to go inside, I suck a breath in and decide to let out what's weighting on my chest. I sigh with frustration. "I want you to be happy, so it wouldn't have bothered me for that… it's just that…" I turn around and look at her. "You confuse me Sar… I don't imagine things… and I can't tell you to sort things out because… I don't know…you just… confuse me, that's all… never mind," I shake my head.

Alright forget what I said about talking my feeling over, I still suck at it, I just don't use anger to avoid them anymore – that's no small progress.

Sara stands up and places herself in front of me. "Don't… please don't say anything… just forget what I said…it doesn't matter," I plead. The things with feeling when they are focused on the vicinities of your heart then talking about them can pretty much screw everything, and I don't want that. I just want things to stay the way they are, well not really, but at least I don't want to spoil what I have.

I lean in and kiss her on the cheek, then without looking at her I walk inside to attend the last hours of the party.

* * *

**Okay, let me just say that for those you who think I just made them take a step back, you're wrong, trust me. I have a plan like always, two even because there'll be a sequel. In fact that chap is because of the sequel, I have to leave blanks behind me because the sequel won't be made out of thin air, got to trace the path already. **

**Anyway, there's more from where this one is coming from and I should be back sooner than you think.**

**Thanks for reading.  
**


	33. Chapter 33

**And back I am! Thank you for your reviews, as promised there's more...**

**Enjoy,**

**So ;)**

**ps: **Immi **(let me out, let me out!) :P  
**

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* * *

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**Chapter 33**

_Sara's POV_

I'm humming along the music, bobbing my head up and down while I'm cutting and mixing ingredients on my counter. I'm waltzing in between the cupboards and throwing food into pans with precision, looking at colours and tastes coming all together in the harmony that cooking can bring.

By the time I'm done the sound of water running in the bathroom has stopped. I have time to prepare two plates before the bathroom door is rotated on its hinges.

"Hmmm… smells good…" Greg states. "Wait, is that what I think it is."

"Yes, my dear friend, cosmic goo," I smile with my back to him. I turn around and nearly drop the plate at the sight.

He's buttoning his shirt upon his bare skin, but what struck me immediately is his face. I put the plate on the counter delicately and walk to him. I let my fingertips tentatively caress one of his cheeks.

"You shaved," I state the obvious.

There's a pinch in my chest. The reason he had a beard to begin with had to do with us as a couple, so shaving it is yet another nail on that coffin.

"Yeah…" he smiles lazily. "I thought today was as good as any to… turn a new page," we are both aware that he's not only talking about the beard.

I can feel tears gathering in my eyes, I've been quite emotional lately, and little details like this one have been taken like the end of the world.

"Hey… you know it can grow back," he jokes with a shrug.

"I don't think so… I mean… it'd be really weird now."

He looks away and clears his throat, then cups my left cheek and kisses my crown softly. "You know I can't remember when you last cooked cosmic goo."

"You had a beard then," I simply reply with a chuckle.

We went out with his brothers last night, and we all shared the last drinks and meal in my apartment, Greg slept over on the couch, Jasper being the designated driver took care of bringing back Gabriel and Anton safely home.

"Hazy called me, she said she'd come to Vegas again soon."

"Yeah, next month she said. Oh, yeah by the way your brothers and Dana are still up for the little trip?"

"Definitely."

"Cool, because I thought that with Hazy here we could all make it happen."

"I'll call everybody tomorrow, so that when we all find the perfect moment we can make the reservations," he nods before taking another bite of his lunch.

I like that in spite of us breaking up nothing has changed as far as our inter-familial relationships goes. I really love his family and both our families really get along, so I'm naturally happy that those bounds are deep and resilient.

xxxxx

"Miss Marlow, we know that the time is inappropriate but we need your help now while the memories are still fresh in your mind," I start.

"Please, call me Sam, and don't worry, I know you're only doing your job," Samantha Marlow replies. Our attacker is being a little more violent, she has bruises and her face is swollen and her neck has turned purple.

"Sam, could you tell us everything you remember?" I continue.

"I was closing the place… the guy came out of nowhere… he started to talk incoherently… he was agitated, he tried to touch me I pushed him away… we fought…but the more I defended myself the more violent he was becoming so I stopped…he was on top of me, trying to choke me… I force myself not to panic and try to grab anything, then I hit him in the face with all I could… I stumbled away from him and he fled…"

"Could you describe him?" Catherine asks her.

"About 6 feet tall… white skin… green eyes, piercing on the arch of his left eyebrow… dark hair…he had a stubble… thin lips…lanky yet muscular… not bulky though… musky scent… a tattoo on his neck… couldn't tell you what it was… it was more like the beginning of the tattoo…" she thinks hard. "He had a scar on his other eyebrow…wide hands…that's about it."

"Do you remember anything that strikes you as odd… I know this is difficult but it's very important," Catherine continues the interview.

"He was talking to me, but… not really… he kept calling me Lisa and was talking to me as if I was that Lisa… but no matter what I told him it's like he wasn't hearing me… like he was in trance or something… the last time I punched him… he saw me for the first time… I mean, I could see that he finally realised that I wasn't the one he thought I was… so he fled," she shrugs.

"What was he saying?" I frown.

"He was reproaching me… or rather Lisa with treating him badly, when he was doing all he could to make 'me' happy, why was 'I' such a bitch to him… things like that."

"Do you think you could work with a sketch artist and try to make a portrait of him?" I demand. There's nothing more tiring than interview after attacks, the victims want nothing other than to be left alone and we're asking for a lot out of them, but they are our only links to the suspect. It would be much more easier if we could extract memories but this is no science fiction movie so we do with what we have.

"Sure."

"Thank you," I nod to Sam and go to look for a sketch artist while Cath stays at her sides.

After more than an hour we have finally a portrait of our attacker, it's not much, but it's a beginning. Now we can go see the other vic and know for sure if we're dealing with the same guy.

"Do you know what I'm thinking?" I ask Catherine once we are in a lab reviewing our evidence.

"Yellow unicorn?" she tries.

"What?" I turn to her with a frown, clearly not understanding where that came from.

"I forgot my crystal ball home what can I say?" she simply replies.

"Smartass," I roll me eyes. "I'm thinking about our perp."

"What about him?"

"He could be mentally instable, living in his own world… which make him more dangerous than ever."

"You're thinking schizophrenia?"

"It could be."

"We could check mental institutions and see if they released anyone matching his description recently," Cath offers.

"What if Lisa wasn't a figment of his imagination?" I point out.

"Then she's in hell as we speak, if he hurts other women the way he does I can't imagine how she is right now."

"This case is frustrating," I sigh deeply.

Catherine doesn't reply anything, there can be long period with no attacks and then out of nowhere he'll do it again; victims pile up but we're still in square one; so it's hard to believe we're going to catch that man.

xxxxx

We just pulled a double shift, I've made arrangement to have the whole week end off as well as Catherine. I also made sure that Catherine and I would drive together to work, so that we'd have to ride together back to our respective homes.

"Sar, you're ready?" Catherine asks from the door of the locker room.

"Yeah, I'm coming, go to the car I'll meet you in a five," I tell her as I'm lacing my shoes on the bench, the guys all around me getting their things.

"Oki doki," she smiles tiredly then leaves.

As soon as the door is closed I turn around and exchange looks with the guys. "Alright, don't forget for tomorrow night okay."

"Are you kidding? We'll be there, even before to have a little fun between boys," Nick says enthusiastically.

I chuckle and check my head. "Just make sure to be happy but not too much."

"Aye, aye captain."

I wink at him and leave the locker room to join Cath in the car. I let her drive on the way to the lab so that it would be my turn right now.

I climb into the car and fasten my seatbelt. I take a deep cleansing breath to steady my nerves and turn on the ignition.

"I'm beat… I can't wait to be home in my bed," Cath states.

"Hold that thought," I smile and start driving. I see her putting her head against the window, her eyes already half close, I smile a bit knowing that her state of tiredness works in my advantage.

I'm listening the radio while Cath is more or less in Morpheus' arms. I've been driving for fifteen minutes though, so even if she's not completely paying attention, I know that inwardly she knows that it shouldn't be long before we reach her house… if we were going to her house that is.

"Hum… Sar," her sleepy voice calls me.

"Yeah?"

"You missed my exit," she states.

"I did?"

"Yes…"

"Oh," I simply say, all the while keeping my eyes on the road.

She straightens herself on her seat and shakes the sleepiness out of her. She chortles. "And here I thought I was tired. Alright, just exit at the next one, we'll take the longer way."

I run past the next exit, something she notices. "Okay, you just missed the new exit… Sara?"

"Uh…yeah about that…" I wince a bit for dramatic effect. "There's a little change of plan."

"What? Where are we going?"

"Straight ahead," I point out the obvious. "Alright, don't panic, but I'm kidnapping you."

"What?"

"I'm kidnapping you… I won't ask a ransom… I'm just forcing you to follow me."

"Are you mad?"

"No, I'm Sara."

She pinches the bridge of her nose and closes her eyes tight. "Okay, run that one by me again, you're kidnapping me?"

"Correct, but in all friendly way, of course," I beam.

"Where are you taking me?"

"I can't disclose any information… you know it's part of the kidnapper/kidnapped rule code," I shrug.

"Sara…"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes, I have to be back home because later I have to pick up Linds…"

"From her rehearsal, I know, it's been taken care of, no worries."

"Why?"

"Just because…" I sigh. "You're the one who told me that sometimes you felt the need just to drive without caring where to" I state. "Carpe diem," I add after a second or two. "It doesn't matter where we go… it doesn't matter what we do… let's just go with the moment."

"You really choose the moments to listen to me," Cath snorts with a small smile. "I'll sleep a bit if you don't mind."

"Go ahead."

xxxxx

I couldn't say for the life of me the name of the cities we drive through or where we stop. I only register the laughter, the discussion about nothing, the care-free feeling inhabiting both Cath and I. It's one of those moments when you look at the world like a new born would do, everything is magical and new and beautiful and perfect in its own way; you just have this eagerness to discover things even if they are trivial… I suppose that growing up makes that feeling so alien that we tend to forget about it altogether.

When is the last time you told yourself, hey I feel like going there, and actually left everything and went there? I know, life has responsibilities and all that, that it's good to dream but there are always a lot to take in consideration and that means shutting down some of our impulses. Funny, how we all know that life is not endless, that one moment we're here and the next we're not anymore; I have a job telling me that much every day and yet even being conscious of it I don't really take the time to appreciate the value of life.

And right now, that's exactly what we do. Sure we had to go back to Vegas, tomorrow life will get back on its track, but tomorrow is far away and uncertain, what matters is today, and today I'm sharing simple, good moments with a friend. Life doesn't get any better than this sometimes.

"That's by far the best kidnapping I've been involve into," Cath states before taking some chips into her mouth.

"Just how many times have you been kidnapped?"

"Hey, who said I was always the victim?" she raised an eyebrow and looks at me with playfulness.

"Should I fear for my safety?"

"Nah… that would make a sad kidnapper out of you, to have your victim taking you hostage."

We both laugh boisterously. We are sitting on the hood of the car watching Vegas from a vantage point as the sun is setting down lazily; eating junk food and sharing memories.

"Alright, I got one," I declare. "If you could change any moment in your life, would you?"

"Nope, never regret, never look back. Changing a thing would mean that I wouldn't be the one I am right now. I've been working too hard on liking that person to throw it all away," she chuckles.

"Good point."

For few seconds the only sounds breaking the silence, are our breathings, the food with chew, the gulps we take out of our water bottles and the muffled sound of the radio.

"Thanks," Cath says after a while, she finds a tissue and wipes her hands. Then she looks at me with a contented smile. She bumps her shoulder against mine and bites her bottom lip. "For yesterday afternoon and evening, for today… I enjoyed myself greatly."

"The day is yours Cath… and you still have a few hours before it ends. The whole world is yours, right now… it all belongs to you. So just grab whatever you want and enjoy, enjoy! Carpe…"

I turn my head to look at her and she makes my next words prisoners of my throat as she captures my bottom lip between hers.

I feel a slight pressure on my chest as my heart stops, but then I release my breath and it starts again at an irregular and fast pace. I let myself be used to the feel of her soft flesh against mine, not moving a muscle. She pulls back without completely breaking the contact, I don't move nor do I open my eyes, fully enjoying the new sensations I'm experiencing. She takes my lack of movement as an invitation and kisses me again, deeper and let her guide me through the kiss; her fingertips come to brush the skin of my cheek with and electric feel; her tongue tentatively tease mine, but the contact is never full, and I can't help but be amazed at the vertigo gripping me when I know that I'm not moving.

She breaks the contact and it takes me a few seconds to flutter my eyes open again. We look at each other in silence. I'm still too light-headed to say anything – or to think for that matter, words are overrated anyway.

The shrieking beeping sound of my watch comes to break the moment. I look at it unnecessarily knowing full well what time it's indicating, since I programmed the alarm this very morning.

A grin creeps to my lips and I look at Cath again who is now looking at the horizon. "There's somewhere we need to be, but first we need to make one last stop."

"I thought we didn't have any plan," she raised an eyebrow with a smirk.

"That's right 'we' don't have a plan, I'm the kidnapper here and as disorganized as I seem, I'm the mastermind of this operation and I have a plan," I come back which makes her laugh, hopping off the hood of the car and gathering our trash in a bag.

xxxxx

I take her to my place so we can shower and change, then I drive us to a restaurant which have been arranged especially for tonight – assuming the boys did their job. I hold the door open for Catherine and smile as she steps inside.

"What…" she chuckles, when she sees the boys dancing in the middle of the room – a dance floor made for the occasion.

"Cath, meet my partners in crime," I announce as the boys join us.

They hug warmly, the boys are formally dressed up, and in a very cheerful mood. The restaurant is empty save for us. Nick, Warrick and Greg tell us hat Grissom, Doc Robbins, Brass, Hodges and the rest of our co-workers will join us in a little while. I invited Brenda too, but she should come with Linds and Nancy later.

Cath turns to me with a wide smile on your lips. "Partners in crime… is there another charge besides kidnapping me and booking a whole restaurant for ourselves?" she asks laughing a little.

"No…" Nick reassure her. "But we thought that the place would be kind of empty only with us… so… we just expended the kidnapping to a greater scale," he shrugs.

Catherine frowns but she doesn't get a chance to speak as another voice rises into the room. "Mind if we join you Pumpkin?"

Cath's feature show utter surprise and disbelief at the sound. She turns around to the man who just spoke. "Daddy?" she whispers.

She finally gets over her shock and almost run into her father's arms, holding him tightly against her, happiness and love radiating from their embrace.

She pulls back a bit and kisses his cheek. "Oh my god, what are you doing here?" she asks with a bright smile before looking at me and the boys for an explanation.

"Happy birthday Cath," we simply reply.

"My birthday's not until Saturday," she chortles.

"That would be today," I announce her with a mischievous smirk.

"I… we are… you made me lose track of time," she accuses me, finally understanding why I 'kidnapped" her.

"Told you, I had a plan," I wink.

"Didn't expect that, did you Little bean?" another male says when he joins us in the main room.

If possible Cath's eyes get bigger at the sight of her brother. "Jude?"

"Happy birthday, Bean," her other brother ships in.

"Byron…" Cath is at loss for words, but her surprise just keeps on expending as all her family comes in – Linds, Nancy, her nephews and nieces and the cousins we managed to get in touch with. "Oh my god, you're all here!"

While they exchange hugs and kisses I turn to the boys next to me. "Gentlemen, I think we can officially call operation blue balloon a success."

"Oh yeah," Nick beams, we high five each other or bump fists in victory.

"So, did you have any trouble on your end?" I ask them.

"Nope, well we feared that Byron and his family wouldn't make it in time, but it all turned out okay," Warrick informs me.

"Everything went fine for us," Greg speaks referring to him and Nick as they were supposed to welcome first Jude yesterday evening and then Catherine's father, Alistair, and the rest of the tribe today. "We went out last night with Jude and played nice, then we showed them the city today, like perfect guides."

"Oh yeah, and get this Alistair beat the crap out of Greg on video game," Nick giggles.

"You can talk cow boy, Kendal is only twelve and she's the one who beat you," Greg replies, Nick stops laughing but Warrick almost chokes from laughter.

"We had lunch with Nance, spend a little time in the city and all came here about an hour before you informed us that you were back in town," Greg finishes.

"Good," I smile. "I think we definitely made up for forgetting her birthday last year."

"Yep," they all agree with me, and we just watch Catherine, being overwhelmed by the presence of everyone, when she'll get over her surprise we'll have dinner and some fun all together.

xxxxx

"There you are," Cath's voice calls me back to the present.

Everyone is inside, dancing or talking, I thought I'd have a little moment outside on the terrace of the restaurant.

"I just wanted a little breather."

"Byron wanted me to dance so I thought I'd find a good reason to avoid it," she chuckles.

"Glad to help," I chortle. "Oh, I almost forgot," I put a hand inside my jacket and look for a small rectangular box. "There you go, happy birthday."

There's a sparkle in her eyes. "You shouldn't have."

"Open it," I beam.

She unwraps the paper and finds a leather box under it, she opens it delicately and the most glorious sound ever reaches my ears again – and I know I'll never get tired of hearing it, as she laughs and shakes her head. She takes the content out of the box and bites her bottom lip.

"Golden print powder," she makes an over emotional face "I am touched," she moves her hand quickly in front of her face as if to dry tears.

"You have no idea, how rare this is… I almost had to kill to put my hand on it," I say with a pout.

"Let me guess, you took one for you as well," she teases me.

"Yeah… that too… but the important thing is that it's primo stuff, make sure to use it for big cases."

"You're such a geek," she giggles.

"Never said otherwise," I stick my tongue at her. We laugh softly and look at the scenery for a moment.

"All right, spill," I turn to her with a frown. "How did you manage to pull that off?" she elaborates, gesturing her family inside with a movement of her head.

"For the record, it was collective effort," I reply with a smile.

"How?" she smiles amused at my attempt to keep my secrets safe.

"Alright… I have a confession to make… you might not like it…" I wince.

"Okay…"

"We planned everything with the boys and Nance, and we realized quite early that we'd need some extra resources…"

Her smile fades as she understands my words. "Sam, put you up to this, didn't he?"

"No, like I said the planning was all the boys, Nancy and I. We wanted everything to be perfect, and for your family not to worry about anything but being available today," I explain. "So yeah, after much discussion I took the liberties to include him in the plan. I went to see him and exposed our ideas and he was more than happy to help."

It's true, I talked a lot with Nancy, and even though we wanted to do it another way in order to have everybody here we needed much more than we could afford. Sam Braun… well regardless to what the man is, he was of a great help, providing suites for the Flynn family to stay; allowing us to use his jet to go and get them; drivers to go around the city if need be; and even having this restaurant for ourselves with the staff to serve us was his contribution to the plan.

"I bet," she snorts. "What's the other part of the bargain?"

"A phone call," I tell her.

"What?"

"I know, I was very surprised as well, but all he wanted in return was a phone call from you, tonight or later. A phone call and just that, trust me when I say that I've talked with him at length to be sure there wasn't some scheme behind this but, that's all he asked for. He said that he knew you'd be happy at the surprise, and just to know that he somehow provided a little help was more than enough for him and that a phone call from you would be… I quote 'like the cherry one top of the cake'."

Let's be honest, being in business with Sam Braun looks like making a deal with the devil, so I was quite surprise when all he wanted in return of all he was doing was a phone call, I thought that was a code for 'your soul Miss Sidle', but no he wasn't joking. It turned out that the guy has a heart especially when it comes to Cath and Linds.

Cath looks at me silently. "I understand if you're mad."

"I want to be mad…" she admits before looking back inside where everybody is enjoying themselves "…but this is the best day of my life, so… thank you," she smiles before leaning in and delivering a butterfly kiss on my cheek, my eyes flutters at the contact, I just grin in return not trusting my voice to work at this very moment.

She steps away and takes her cell phone from her pants pocket. It doesn't take long for her to have someone on the other end. The exchange is short, but unlike any time I've heard her having a conversation with Sam Braun over the phone, there is no animosity, just gratitude and this odd yet warm affection.

I go ahead and join everybody else inside, enjoying the party still going at its fullest.

xxxxx

I chuckle. "And here I thought that my jokes were bad."

Greg shakes his head next to me. We went to see a movie, after which we came back to his place cooked dinner and now we're sharing a beer on his balcony. We go out regularly him and I as if trying to compensate for all the 'friendship time' we put in hold when we were together.

"You like Catherine, don't you?" he states out of the blue.

I snort uneasily. "I do she's my friend," I frown.

"No, I meant, _like_ her," he smirks.

"Come on," I shake my head.

"What?... You're saying I'm imagining things?"

"I don't know… just…" I struggle. "Yeah… I guess I feel some things…I don't know, I haven't really taken the time to deal with it," I admit. "Does it bother you?" I ask after a moment.

"No, of course not," he chortles. He looks away and marks a pause. He snorts. "I know it's going to sound silly, but… there was this tiny part of me thinking that… maybe you and I would eventually get back together," he confesses.

I swallow with difficulty as my throat seems to have tightens itself all the sudden. "It's not silly… a part of me thought that too… wanted that too…" I whisper. "I think about you… I think about us… but then I think about what happened… about her… and I get upset and I hurt so much at the mere thought… that's when I am reminded that 'us' just can't happened anymore…" my voice break and I look away, holding back some tears.

"What happened…" he starts.

"Let's not go down that road," I warn him.

"Moon…" he sighs.

"Don't!" I spit firmly and stand up. "There's no point in talking about that now, we're not together anymore… what happened, happened… it doesn't matter now… that's that."

"Yeah," he murmurs. The air is heavy with unsaid and awkwardness.

I can feel myself getting angry. "I think I'm going to go home."

"Okay," he nods.

"I'll see you at work."

"Sure…" he takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry to have upset you."

"Never mind."

"Look, all I wanted to say… you know… you and Cath…"

"I don't know what to do about it so…"

"You know me… I'm not standing in your way."

"Like I said, I don't know… I'm not there yet. I'm going, see you tomorrow," I go to him and kiss his cheek before leaving.

xxxxx

"I kissed Catherine… well she kissed me and I kissed her back," I declare out loud for the first time.

Adam stares at me and doesn't say anything. After three minutes of silence I speak again.

"Okay, that silence of mine wasn't a 'give me a moment to gather my thoughts' silence, it was more of a 'now say something Doc' type of silence. So, hum, let's do it again," I inform him. "I kissed Catherine… well she kissed me and I kissed her back… cue Adam," I hold my hand in his direction for a more obvious indication that I'm giving him the time to speak.

"Why mentioning it?" he says after a moment.

"You make it sound like it was expected."

"No, but I don't think I'm mistaking when stating that you and Catherine have been physically intimate in the past."

"I don't remember saying that…" I frown. "It's true… I just, don't remember ever mentioning it."

"You did actually," he says, which only adds to my confusion. "The session after we talked about the Holy Gribbs case, we were speaking of the Eddie Willows case, an argument ensued during which Catherine said and I quote 'fuck you', and you replied 'you already did', her reaction let me know that it was indeed literal," he elaborates.

I smirk. "Right," I sigh and try to find back my line of thoughts. "See, the thing is that… we never kissed before…" I look at Adam, who just looks me back impassively. "Well… we did, you know when… during… but it was… included in the act… you know…" I struggle to explain. "But we never kissed… outside of the sexual context that is…"

Still no reactions from Adam.

"Well… okay… we did kiss once… twice outside of a sexual context but…" I take a deep breath and try to steady myself. "When I came back from California… I went to see her first thing when I arrived… and… she… she kissed me hello…a few hours after that, we were talking… and I kissed her… and it didn't lead to sex… but it… it was different… well, same but different…"

Adam finally speaks. "Same but different?"

"Yeah…they didn't lead to sex but they came from the same place… emotional vulnerability…because then we were using sex as a way to deal with emotional distress…and that day I came back from Cali, I was vulnerable…so it was different… maybe it's the first time that I briefly thought that things could… be more than just fuck buddies… but then it appeared to me that it would be a more fuck up situation than fuck buddies… because… how could we have more when we couldn't manage to have a stable friendship then…"

I try to gather my thoughts. "Anyway… it was different… when she kissed me two weeks ago… it was unexpected and… out of any emotional context…"

"Is it a bad thing?"

"No… not at all…"

"But it disturbs you."

"Glad to see you didn't lose your observation skills," I sigh with a soft exasperation, I think I've learnt to appreciate Adam's way to point the obvious. "It does…and I don't know why I'm talking to you about that because you're as useful to me as a hole in my elbow… I mean, you can't tell me what to do, or how to sort things out…"

He chuckles but composes himself quickly. "Sorry," he holds one hand up.

I chortle myself. "The hole in the elbow part?"

"Yeah," he grins.

"I thought you'd appreciate it," I smirk. It's funny how Adam and I can be so familiar with one another at the oddest times. "Anyway… I've been obsessed with one thought… because you see, before she kissed me, I didn't want her to nor did I want to kiss her… it really came out of the blue… but… for some reason, when she was kissing me… I know, that I felt something…that… made me want the kiss to last… and when the kiss ended… I felt… kind of… high," I finish with a shrug.

I stare at Adam for a while more then look away and breathe out heavily. "Goodness. Is it me or is it hot here?" I pinch the top of my shirt and wave it a bit. I suddenly feel really thirsty and go to the fridge, grab a bottle of water and drain it to its half in one go.

I'm panting a bit, and I feel my cheeks burning. "I can't believe we just talked about sex…" I can sense him about to reply. "Yeah right, I'm the one who talked about it, I know," my reply only makes him smile which lets me know that I had guessed his next words right. I finish the bottle and throw is in the trash bin. "Let's not that again… talk about sex I mean…"

I can see him subtly pursing his lips. "Come on, share… just let it go… don't censor yourself," I invite him with a smile, knowing full well that once more we're breaking the shrink/patient wall. I think he allows it to happen probably because I've had shrinks before, but also because he has understood that I need it sometimes in order not to feel trapped.

To my surprise he sings one line or two from a tune. "Oh… no you did not just sing some Georges Michael…" I gap in disbelief.

"What you would have preferred…" he starts then sings some Salt'N'Peppa. We both laughs like teenagers at his antics. "In my defence, it was my wife's musical tastes, not mine, I just had to learn to appreciate them."

"Yeah, right," I keep laughing softly. When I'm calm I speak again. "You know, in times like these I wish you weren't my shrink."

"Why is that?"

"Because I'm sure we'd have great laughs together around drinks and food."

"Life's unfair… or maybe those laughs are good because I am your shrink."

"Debatable point," I shrug and go back to the couch. "So…" I sigh heavily.

xxxxx

I take a sip of my bottle of water and play with the sticker on it. It all looks like déjà vu, I'm sitting on Greg's balcony, having a drink after movie and some food, the only difference is that the movie was rented.

"I think I'm going to ask her out," I finally let out. "Cath," I elaborate unnecessarily.

There's a long silence during which I watch him watching ahead at the horizon line. He snorts with a small grin. "Well don't sound over excited about it," he finally looks at me, and I can see that his smile is genuine.

I don't feel like laughing though, this has been eating at me. Because taking a step forward with Catherine providing that she wants it means, really letting go of Greg. It means it's really over.

"I know…that… you and I haven't broken up that long ago…" my throat tightens and emotions threaten to spill already; my voice is wavering slightly. "I don't… I don't want you to think that… you and I didn't mean a thing… that I'm just brushing it off like it didn't mean anything… because it did… I meant a lot to me…" in spite of my effort to reign over my emotions, silent tears are burning tracks on my cheeks.

"Hey, now…" he softly says. "I know that… I know we meant something and I know you loved me as much as I loved you…" he sighs and chuckles.

"I just…" I move my hands helplessly, not being able to grasp my words. "I just can't help how I feel… but I feel bad about it… because it seems like… we didn't mean much… when it's the opposite…" I struggle to say in between breathless sobs.

"Moon…" he calls me softly, which only aggravates my states. He's about to say something but then changes his mind and breathes out heavily again. "You having feelings for someone else doesn't, in any way, belittle what we had… that will stay untouched, no matter what…" he lets his words sink in. "Remember what I said about starting a new page… life goes on and this new things you feel just means that you're moving on… and that's rather a good thing… so you shouldn't feel bad about it…" he adds. I nod, but my chest hurts and my tears have doubled. "And I meant it the other day, I'm not standing in your way, if she's what you want… go for it."

I should be happy that he's so understanding but it hurts. Because I'm moving on, it means that we're over for good, that I'm stopping the fight for us, but his compliance means that he lays down his arms and surrenders as well. Even though we've been separated for a while; even though we've both known then that we wouldn't get back together, there were parts of us, still fighting to keep what we had alive because it was precious. But now we're breaking up all over again, putting water over the still warm ashes to kill any surviving sparkle.

It's over.

I grab his chin firmly and press my lips against his. The last remains of our love is there, dying in that bittersweet kiss. It's the last nail on that coffin. I pull back and he kisses my forehead before holding me against his chest while I weep.

"Moon?" he calls me after some undetermined time. "You know I love you, but I swear if there's snot on my shirt I'll rub it in your face," he says which makes me laughs and stops my tears.

We stay like that for some more time, then we go back inside to watch another movie.

xxxxx

Knowing what I want is one thing, going after it is another. It's been a little over a month since Catherine kissed me, and though I've kind of sorted things out regarding what I felt about it, I've yet to do anything. Thing is, there have been changes. Before the kiss she was… affectionate with me, she'd hold my hand or just seek some kind of contact, I'm not completely inept, I know that those contacts were a little more than friendly, and I let them happen, perhaps unconsciously already wanting something. Now that I have rationally admitted to myself what I wanted and since that kiss… well… everything has stopped.

It's not really a good sign when you think about it. I'm not saying I have deep feelings, or anything, I'm just saying that I want a chance to explore what I feel and see where it goes. At the same time it looks like I missed that train over a month ago, so yeah… not really encouraging.

The hardest part is to take the dive, to know whether you'll land on concrete or in water, doesn't matter that much because you don't know until impact. You just have to find the guts and go for it, easier said than done, I know.

I don't want to talk about the kiss, I don't want to go to her and ask her what she meant or something like that it would spoil the memory for one and then… I don't think I'm up to speak about feelings at length just yet, one battle is enough for a day. I just want to make her understand that I'd like a chance, that's it, the rest can wait.

After much debate with myself, I decided to bring breakfast to her place. That's perfectly normal and inconspicuous, that way I'm under no obligation to dive. I ring her bell before finding a good reason to walk away.

"Sar?"

"I brought breakfast," I smile and lift the package in my hand. "Well… at least what I need to prepare one," I shrug.

She just snorts and let me in. She's still in her sleeping clothes, her hair is messy and her eyes let me know that she hasn't been up for long. She was off yesterday, so I can only imagine that she took the opportunity to catch up some sleep.

We move silently around her kitchen, she prepares the coffee, while I cook breakfast. At least that's what I'm supposed to do, so far I haven't done much but taking out what I could need.

"Hey!" Catherine shouts a bit. "I know I'm boring, but as long as you're under my roof you have to pretend to listen to me," she giggles.

I suddenly walks to her, the closer I get, the further away she moves, until her body is against the counter; I walk in her personal space and she's leaning further against me; I can feel the frown on my face, I know that right now I'm looking at her like I look a piece of evidence that is puzzling me. I have a question which I can't formulate and I'm suppose to find the answer going with it. Yet I'm not sure why I'm advancing toward her, it's like my subconscious had decided to take the wheel.

I'm now inches away from her and she's leaning away, watching me with a mix of panic and incomprehension; I know I should step back, and frankly I'm not sure what drives me at the moment, because clearly I don't know what's happening except that it seemed like where I should be at this precise moment.

I lean in and eventually she can lean any further, after what seems like an eternity my lips connect with hers. Everything is still for a fraction of second, then I feel it the tiniest pressure of her lips in response and I the electric shock courses through me again. I pull back and look at her. She flutters her eyes open, still leaning away from me but not moving an inch.

"It's still there…" I say amazed, I'm not sure if I'm talking to her or myself but I just do. "The yearning I felt… on the car," I keep on "It's still there," I can feel a smile tugging at my lips when my eyes never left hers. As if it was the most natural thing to do I lean in again and reconnect our lips.

My senses are suddenly sharpened. I get aware of her breathing quick and unsteady; her heart hammering against her chest – or maybe it's just mine reverberating against her; I feel a pinch on my flesh where her hand is gripping my shoulder; my fingertips are burning where they are brushing against her cheek. I'm not prepared at the flow of emotion unfurling inside me; the yearning I feel is like a wild fire I can no longer contain and I deepen the kiss; our tongues talk to each other in the most sensual way possible. I want more, and I'm afraid to swallow her whole but she just responds more to my demands which only makes me even greedier.

She has to put her fingers on my lips and physically detached my mouth from hers. Our breathing mingle, warm, unsteady; my forehead is against hers and my lips are already burning from the lack of contact with hers.

"What are the odds for me to wake up?"

It takes me a second or two to realize that she has spoken, I process her question before replying. "Slim… very."

Neither of us smile or chuckle, her mouth just comes to crash against mine again. My last thoughts are drown by my sensory overload, I'm sure there was something I wanted to say; but I disconnect my brain, letting myself enjoy the new sensations, and making sure it lasts as long as possible.

Words are overrated anyway.

* * *

**See? I have a plan (which is not always to the tase of everyone, but I have a plan :P ) just trust me and shall unravel the path to you. I'll try to come back with more soon.  
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**The songs Adam sings**_ 'Let's talk about sex'_** by Salt N Peppa and **_'I want your sex' _**by Georges Michael  
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**Thanks for reading  
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	34. Chapter 34

**Unbelievable, look who's back already! Yeah, I know, I'm surprised too... Anyway, thanks for the reviews. Here's the new chap.**

**Enjoy,**

**So ;)**

**ps:**Immi** still stuck in _that_ town... :( but thanks for keeping me company :)  
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**

* * *

Chapter 34**

_Cath's POV_

I'm kissing Sara.

Well… I'm still questioning my state of consciousness but it sure feels real to me.

For all I know I'm probably just having the most amazing dream of my life, with full Technicolor and very, _very_ real sensory overload.

Or maybe I'm awake…

Not that I care much about that detail at this point. I just want to keep on feeling her firm embrace and awkward caresses; her lips discovering mine and her tongue rubbing against mine and teasing my mouth…

I'm kissing Sara…

Although to describe this as a kiss seems weak.

A month ago, she took me away for an impromptu trip, and she was telling me to seize the day, that the world was mine and I could take everything I wanted, so I kissed her. In spite of the calm and slow envelope of the kiss, it was explosive for me.

In comparison, Sara went nuclear on me.

I've never felt so elated, so electrified or dizzy by a kiss. She came unannounced for breakfast and barely five minutes after coming in she spaced out on me. When she came back to her senses, she started to advanced toward me, which kind of scared me so I did the most instinctive thing to do, I stepped away. Eventually I found myself cornered so I leaned away and as limber as I can be, I reached my limits.

She was looking at me with a frown, like I was some sort of strange creature she was studying, I felt really ill at ease under her gaze. I never had the chance to ask her why she was looking at like she was because her lips connected with mine.

She said something which my brain never quite processed and then she kissed me again, with the intensity of a fire kept alive by a whirlwind.

My breathing is laborious, I'm holding onto her like my life depended on it – I was so taken aback that I've been feeling like falling ever since her lips touched mine; the skin of my back is burning where her hand has snuck under my shirt. She's just holding me there, against her, devouring me.

I break the kiss again not because I'm having a hard time to breathe or to keep up with her passion, but my heart is really beating irregularly, so much I'm afraid it won't hold any more shock. As I enjoyable as dying right now while kissing her sound, I know I want a chance to have more, or just a chance to know that I'm not dreaming.

Her forehead is against mine and I'm breathing as heavily as she is; my head is spinning, my heart is still thundering against my chest so violently I can feel my blood pulsing in my vein at the same rhythm.

"Scrambled eggs okay?"

It takes me a moment to realize that she did speak. When I manage to process the information I frown. She just kissed me like there was no tomorrow and now…

"Uh-huh," I reply eloquently.

She shakily steps away from me, her fingertips leave a sizzling trail as they brush my skin when she retrieves her hand from under my shirt. I hold the counter behind me with crisped hands, still feeling an intense vertigo. Sara seems to have disconnected herself from what just happened. She just resumes her cooking like everything was perfectly normal.

I finally gain back some sense of equilibrium and let go of the counter, only to seat on the nearest chair. I think the kiss short circuit all my faculties to think, instead of forcing it, I just watch Sara finishing what she's doing. She serves us both a plate of scrambled eggs and then sits next to me.

She fixes the table as if she could see through it. I want to ask her what just happened but then again that would mean the end of the dream and I'm not ready. She moves her fingers with a frail move and I finally understand that she's not fixing the table but her hand, she seems to be amazed when her hand shyly moves to mine and rests on it.

My skin is still over sensitive and the warmth of such a simple gesture is tenfold. She's still there, she hasn't disappeared yet, surely it means that I'm awake, right?

Her eyes finally meets mine, she smiles tenderly then focuses on her breakfast.

"Thanks," I say after a long pause. I look at my eggs and smile to myself. To hell with convention, I'll hold back my need for answer and just see how things play out with Sara on her own devices.

We don't exchange any more words, we eat in silence and make the dishes. Sara shows signs of tiredness, so I take her to bed, I let her sleep alone too overwhelmed to even rest. My mind is filled with questions but I put them aside, we'll get a chance to talk later.

xxxxx

My confused state gives me a lot of energy to spare so I take a shower, clean around the house and do some ironing. After barely three hours I hear my bedroom door being opened follow closely by the one of the restroom then the bathroom. I know that Sara doesn't sleep much but after pulling a double shift three hours aren't enough rest even for her.

My phone rings, I make a mental note to ask Sara if everything's okay, once she's done showering.

"Willows."

"_Catherine, sorry to bother you that early but there's been a massive car pile up on the highway, the day shift teams are in over their heads, so they're calling for back up,_" Grissom informs me.

"Roger that, where is it?"

He gives me directions and hangs up. Well at least now I know why Sara's sleep has been disturbed. I immediately go to the kitchen and prepare coffee, then I call Nancy to let her know the situation and send a message to Linds to let her know that I love her and that she'll have to go back to Nancy's after her school day. When Sara joins me, ready to go on the field, I simply hand her a thermos of coffee which is warm without being too hot for her to drink right away.

"I'm driving," I simply say with a smile and with that we go back to work.

The day is gruesome and tiring, we spend almost all our first shift collecting evidences, talking to victims, contacting families, then the second one is spent in the lab to analyze everything and trying to figure out what happened based on the information we managed to gather.

When we're finally allowed to go back home and get some rest, Sara drives us back to my place. She parks the car and we stay inside in silence. The day has been full and there were too many things to do to even stop and talk, let alone think about that kiss we exchanged. I think it'd be good to talk however, I mean it was great but I need to know what that was about, I don't want to be played with and if it's just about her trying to drag us back in the 'friend with benefit' territory it's not going to work with me. I doubt it's the case, there was definitely something new there, but I'm not going to play guessing games, so I'd rather know the new rules of the game.

"A cup of coffee sounds good right now, what do you think?" I finally break the silence.

"Sure," she grins.

We exit the car and I prepare the coffee while Sara goes to sit on the couch. I feel panic slowly freezing my blood, making it hard for me to breathe regularly. Maybe I don't want to know what happened, maybe it's just like the time on the car, I just want to enjoy the moment we shared without spoiling it or destroying it with words.

I look at the coffee pot as it's slowly brewing, using those few minutes to try to relax myself; things can't be bad. I grab two mugs and pour coffee inside, I take them and walk back to the couch. Sara hasn't moved from an inch, probably gathering her thoughts as well.

"There you…" I trail off when I realize that she's actually asleep. I chuckle with a sighs.

I don't know if I should feel frustrated or relieved.

I can't really blame her to 'bail' out on me right now; after all she did work two double shifts with only three hours of sleep in between. I guess the words will wait, yet again.

I go back to the kitchen and put down the mugs, then return to Sara. "Sar…" I wait for her to stir. "Sar, come on, let's get you to bed."

I make her stand, and she's giving her body enough power to walk but that's about it, I have to guide her. I don't bother changing her or giving her her sleeping gear, knowing full well that she won't managed today. I push her gently on the bed, and just take off her shoes. I change myself then crawl into bed next to her.

The proximity doesn't help, and for the first time I wish we weren't sharing the same space. I spend an hour tossing and turning, never finding the good position to rest, I do feel however like someone had set my bed on fire.

I'm startled when I feel Sara's arm sneaking around my waist, I'm lying with my back to her, and I'm too shocked and panicked to sense if she's awake or asleep.

"When you kissed me on the car…" she whispers. I hold my breathing vainly, thinking that maybe I can pretend to be asleep. This is ridiculous I know it, if she speaks she knows I'm awake, my constant movement must have waken her up. "… you ignite something in me… something I've been yearning to feel again ever since… I didn't know if it was only because it felt good or if there was something more… now I know…"

She marks a pause, my heart takes the opportunity to travel upward and lodge itself in my throat.

"I feel… something," she finally adds, her voice never raising above the whisper. "I can't label it yet… I don't know much except that… I'd like to explore those feelings… slowly… with you… that is if you're willing to give me that chance… I don't want a friend with benefit thing… I want… something real…" she sighs. "I wish I wasn't so inept at expressing myself when it comes to what I feel."

I grin a bit, slightly more relaxed, but still overwhelmed. This is it. This is what I've been waiting for, and yet it's so different. She's there telling me that she wants to be with me, but at the same time, she's not feeling what I feel for her. I don't know if I should be elated or hurt.

I should probably walk away from this, there still too much room for uncertainty. But I won't lie, I want it, I want it really bad, I want to take that chance with her, I'd be kind of crazy to walk away now just because

we're not technically on the same wavelength.

Yeah but my heart's on the line here…

Alright let's calm down and process everything rationally. For a reason I ignore I find myself thinking about Adam, perhaps like Luke would think about Yoda in a moment of great doubt. Sara is just being honest, telling me what she offers and what she wants, I have to give her that. The stakes are different though, I know that giving her a chance means exposing myself to a terrible heartbreak, while she figures out what she feels.

Lay all the cards on the table… that's what Adam would say – scary that I can affirm that with confidence. If I jump on this ship, then I have to tell Sara right now where I'm standing, so there's no misunderstanding, no room for useless pain.

Relationships, whatever their nature are a collective games, so every players need to know the rules from the start. I can't avoid pain, I mean if it turns out that it doesn't work between us, I'll be hurt, so I might as well accept the probability.

I take a deep breath and turn around so I can face Sara, my body brushes against her arm that she doesn't move from my waist.

"I have feelings for you, feelings I can label…" I wait to see recognition in her eyes before going on. "It's safe to say that I want to let you in… but I need to know that you'll tread carefully, because you could hurt me really bad… just so we're clear on that…" I tell her firmly in a murmur.

"I'll always be careful… I never want to hurt you," she assures me after a moment, her eyes confidently set in mines.

So this is it… this is how it starts.

I rest a hand on her cheek, my heart flutters at the slow blink of her eyes. I move closer and press my lips against hers, as if to seal our words.

"You think we can get some rest now?" I asks once I pull back.

"I don't know… do you think you can stop rolling in every sense?" she smirks.

"Smartass," I grin. "Well… I need one last roll…" I state before turning myself back in my original position, my hand goes to rest on hers and I bring her closer to me, entwining my fingers with hers for the first time.

"Good night," she whispers and her breath tickles the back of my neck, briefly making my heart beat faster until it takes a regular pace again.

I close my eyes with a contented smile on my face. Sometimes the simplest things are the best.

xxxxx

I am…

…with Sara.

I had pictured a lot of things – in my fantasies, none of which were anywhere close to the reality. I'm not complaining though, I like the reality.

After both stating that we wanted more than friendship, Sara and I have started a new awkward 'dance' around one another. It's funny, because even now that I know where to stand, Sara manages to surprise me.

Nothing much has changed.

We go out like we used to as friends, only when I least expect it I'd feel her hand brushing mine or she'd kiss me. It's nothing like the kiss back in the kitchen, but always tender, and toe curling, and dizzying, and… wow. And I'm just talking about a soft brush of her lips against mine, so a kiss with a little pressure or just the chance to taste her lips… and I'm touching the nirvana.

The bonus is that I don't have to worry about her interaction with Linds – not that Linds knows that Sara and I are together. It's only been two weeks and I've wanted to keep that to myself at least for a little while, when things are still so fragile and beautiful.

One thing I've noticed is that there's no pressure regarding to this new turn in our relationship. Sara just makes it look like we've been together for years, she makes it easy. And I just go with this politic, because I like it. Things are awkward but in a touching way, not in that 'I'm trying too hard' way that generally goes with new relationships. Maybe it's due to the fact that we've been physically close before, maybe it's because we've seen the worse of each other first; frankly I don't know what it is and I don't really care, it works, Sara hasn't changed a bit and neither have I, except for the small display of affections – well mostly the kisses, things stayed the same and that's good for me.

I like the pace we have too, there's no rush, just the enjoyment of what's new and here it's extra affection. Don't get me wrong, I want her; thing is, I've had her in the past in the most delightful, intense ways and we reached great heights together, so I know without a doubt that we are very compatible on that level. What we never had, was those simple things, simple marks of affection, and right now they're not just enough, they're good beyond words, too good in fact to be 'spoiled' by having more, at least for now.

One thing doesn't differ from my fantasies: I feel good with her.

"Put down my cookie," Nick says to Greg when I enter the break room. Sara is seated at the table doing crosswords, Nick is on her right, Greg is on her left and Warrick is searching the cupboards for something.

"Your name's not on it," Greg protests.

"No but my shoe will be in you ass if you bite it."

"Boys, what did I say about sharing?" Sara scolds them gently never leaving her crosswords.

"But it's my cookie!" Greg whines.

"Give it to me," Nick frowns like he was about to throw a tantrum.

"Settle down," Warrick finally jumps in. "Let him have the cookie; here's a new box," he pats Nick's shoulder before putting a brand new pack of cookie on the table. Nick stops making a face and opens the new box.

"Rick…" Sara sighs. She glances at me then focuses on Warrick. "How many times do I have to tell you, we need to have a coherent policy. Don't say 'yes' when I say 'no', it undermines my authority and they don't learn to share," she points out, and I have to grin at the scene, you'd believe them the parents of Nick and Greg.

"Oh just give them boys some slack," Warrick shrugs.

Sara chuckles "Figures you'd side with them," she shakes her head and returns to her crosswords.

"Come on, don't give me that… Cath you think I'm too latitudinarian with them?" Warrick turns to me.

"Nuh-huh, don't drag me into this, they're yours not mine," I snort and go to pour myself some coffee.

He sighs. "Boys, Sara's right, you need to learn to share," he adds to Nick and Greg, still busy having coffee and cookies.

"He's the one who has to learn to share," Nick sulks.

"Eat your cookies, cow-boy," Sara just replies clearly thinking that he's no better than Greg.

"I'm just saying… _I_ would have shared."

"Yeah, right," Greg snorts.

Warrick and I laugh at their childish behaviour. Sara tuts and keeps filling the cases on the paper she's holding. Greg starts to giggle on his own without any warning Sara punches him in the shoulder – not a light punch at that.

"Ow!" Greg whines and bites his bottom lip to smother a whine. "That hurts."

"That's one," Sara simply smirks looking down at her paper.

"She hits you," Nick teases like a kid.

Greg rubs his arms and after a few seconds he mumbles something and in spite of his pout of pain he's grinning. Sara punches him again, harder.

"Dang! Fine!" Greg half wails half laughs. "I'm going to have a bruise," he sulks.

"Aww Sara not you too…" Warrick sighs

"He started it!" she exclaims.

"I didn't do anything!" Greg defends himself.

"I didn't do anything," Sara mimics him with a whiny voice.

"Just…play nice," Warrick laments a bit.

"Yeah, where's the love?" Nick asks.

"Right now, it's where my shoe's at, you want some cow boy?" she looks at him smugly with a raised eyebrow.

Nick just grins and looks at Greg. "Here, have some cookies," he offers.

Warrick and I just chortle at their antics. "At least, now they share," I deadpan.

"Good evening everyone," Grissom comes in. "How is everybody?" he queries before serving himself some coffee.

"We're all good, and behaving," I beam at him.

"Very good."

"You look cheerful, today."

"That my dear friend is because I've learnt something new this weekend. Actually does any of you knows what the most terrifying bees are?"

"Damn…I had it on the tip of my tongue," Sara snaps her fingers in mock deception.

"Really funny, anyone else?" he asks seriously. Sometimes – we wonder how, he manages to forget that he's the only one to love creepy crawlies enough to know this kind of things. "The boo bees!" Grissom replies excitedly.

Coffee, milk and cookies spill a bit everywhere, as each one of us choke as an unexpected laughter infects us all.

"My ten year old nephew told me that one," Griss adds with a light chortle. "I've been going through all my books but haven't found it yet though, I think it's a rare specie," he says seriously.

The general laughter dies momentarily, we all look at Griss; Warrick, Greg, Sara and I almost immediately pick up on the subtle spark of amusement in his eyes; Nick however, falls for the joke and we all notice. It's hard not to explode at his naivety.

"Griss… you know that…" Nick starts hesitantly. "It's… you know…"

Griss looks at him impassively as he's struggling, then bursts with a boisterous laugh. "I'm joking Nick. I know what 'boobies' are, though for your guidance us grown men call them breasts and other lovely names," we all explode at Nick's surprised expression. "Oh come on, son; I've been thoroughly studying and adoring the curves of the women's bodies since before you were born, and against popular beliefs I'm not out of that game yet," he adds.

There's only Gil to be able to pull jokes like that off, and after so many years Nick still falls for it. I love Gil's humour, it's always so full of spirit. Coming from any other man, the 'boobies' joke would have a highly inappropriate, and bad taste to it, but not from him; he can make the dirtiest joke sound innocent. He always appears so serious, so guileless, aloof and disconnected from the world, you'd think the man lives in a cave; and he sure plays around with that impression – like he just did. And if he's not as out going as he once was – yes believe it or not I used to be able to drag him into clubs, he's fuller of life, goofier and more social than one would think. I won't call him a player, but he doesn't need any help with the ladies, he sure knows how to put them under a spell.

"I knew you were joking…" Nick tries to recover.

"Sure you did," Greg shakes his head still laughing.

"Alright everyone, who have an open case?" Griss gets serious. Sara and I both raise our hands. "You keep working on it then, for the rest of you put your paperwork to date if it's not already done, then go see if you can be useful in any labs. It's a slow night, so if anything comes up I'll let you know."

"Got it boss," we all answer.

"Rock on then," he says before standing from his chair. He stops at the threshold of the break room and looks at Nick again "Boo bees, I'm an entomologist for goodness sake!" he rolls his eyes and leaves.

"What's creepier, that he just made two jokes in a row or that he hint at his sex life?" Nick asks after a while.

"I don't know about you buddy, but his jokes doesn't gives me chills," Warrick teases him.

"Come on, Nicky boy, you didn't think he was a monk did you?" Catherine adds up.

"Yeah, I bet he does things you'd be blushing about," Greg joins us.

"Too much information, stop it," Nick shivers, with a grimace. Nick can be quite a baby when it comes to some things, he's like that kid who thinks he's the product of some immaculate conception.

"Word's around he's a leather kind of guy too," Warrick continues.

"Ah, la, la, la, I'm not listening anymore," Nick sings while blocking his ears with his fingers. "I'm going to work," he announces before leaving.

We laugh even more. "He's way too easy to tease," Warrick states as we watch Nick walking away.

"Oh yeah…" Greg chuckles. "Boo bees… he's never living this one down," they laugh harder and high five each other.

"Okay, let's get some work done. Hey Cath, it's our turn to get lunch," Warrick informs me, then he exits the room with Greg.

"Roger that," I wink at him

I look at Sara and she's whipping tears from the corner of her eyes. "Gee, my stomach hurts," she giggles.

I beam at the sight, I like to see her laughing. "That was a good way to start a day."

"Yeah."

Without adding anymore we go to our lab to review our case.

xxxxx

"So… you told Greg about us?" I ask Sara when we're making breakfast.

"No," she smirks.

"But he knows…" I grin tightly.

"He does."

"How? I mean… if you didn't tell him… I don't see when he could have figured it out."

"Today, I'd say about four seconds before I punched him the first time," she shrugs.

"How can that be? We barely paid attention to each other," I frown.

"He just reads me easily…" she states as if it was the most natural thing. I don't know why, but her declaration bothers me. "What?"

"Nothing," I force a grin on my face. "I just forget how close you two got when being a couple."

"Oh no, he's always been able to read me like that since the first tome we had a real long talk that was back to the first months of me being in Vegas… his shrewdness is underestimated," she chuckles.

"How does he take it?" I ask what's been nagging at me. I think I'm afraid of his reaction, not afraid… just… apprehensive.

"He's happy," she snorts.

"Really? Doesn't it bother him?"

"Not one bit. You know he picked up on the fact that I had feelings early on."

"Wait… he played matchmaker?" I frown.

"No, no… he's just known I've felt something for you for a little while and until today he never knew if I had acted on it."

"And he's really… okay with it?"

"Yes, Cath he is," she chortles. "Are you bothered, he knows?"

"No… I was just worried he'd feel… uncomfortable about it."

"He's not like that," she smiles. She comes to me and wraps her arms around my waist from behind before kissing the crook of my neck. "You're okay?"

"Yeah," I genuinely smile at her, then kiss her lips.

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**I'm working on the next chap -might take a little more time. The joke is silly, I know, but it does cracks me up even more coming from Grissom. :P  
**

**Thanks for reading.  
**


	35. Chapter 35

**Hey everyone, first thank you for your reviews. Now here's the new chapter.**

**Enjoy,**

**So ;)**

**Ps: **Immi**, thanks to keep me company in _the_ town :P**

Freedie**, thanks for helping me out. ;)  
**

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Chapter 35**

_Sara's POV_

I decide to get out of bed, not having slept much; Catherine is turned on her side, still breathing evenly. I grab some clothes and leave her room quietly to go through my morning routine calmly; once I'm showered I go to the kitchen, I decide to wait for either Linds or Cath to be up as well before preparing breakfast. I go to my backpack and retrieve the book I was reading, sit on the couch and just enjoy the story of Scout Finch once again – though I know it by heart.

Several pages later I hear the door of the master bedroom being worked on its hinges. I stand from the couch, put my book in its resting place and go to the kitchen. I start looking through the cupboards to see what I could prepare for breakfast.

I'm still rummaging around when Cath walks into the kitchen. She wraps her arms around my waist and lays her head against my back with a contented sigh.

"Hey," she whispers with a raucous voice.

I smile. "Hey you," she squeezes me and one of her hands idly caresses my stomach. I turn around without breaking the contact, I enlace her as well. "Did you sleep well?" she hums with a grin.

"I notice that you don't sleep much lately," she states.

"I'm not a big sleeper, you know that."

She pouts a bit. "Does it mean I'll never wake up with you by my side?"

"I didn't say that," I smirk.

She scrutinizes me for a moment. "Short sleep is the only thing keeping you away from the bed, right?" she asks seriously.

"Well…"

"If your next sentence is a mix with the words 'snoring and drooling', I'll be really mad, and you don't want me to be grouchy just yet," she warns me with a big frown.

I purse my lips not to laugh and reply with a straight face. "Short sleep is the only reason."

"Good answer."

"I thought so," I chuckle, she rolls her eyes and laughs nimbly with me. I brush a hand against her cheek then lean in and rest my lips on hers.

I have an addiction to her lips. I know it's funny, since we've kissed many times before – the times where we were casually being physical, but the thing is that what I called kisses before were nothing more than passionate lip locks; now, when we were on the car, _that_ was a kiss. And that kiss made an addict out of me.

It doesn't matter how many times I kiss her, it always feels different and makes my pulse race. The good side is that apparently I'm not the only one with an addiction, I intended just to kiss Cath hello, but she's all the sudden more demanding – I am certainly not complaining.

I bring her as close to me as possible, feeling high and slowly drowning in rapturous delight as our kiss deepens. The dizziness makes us sway a little, we move until I have my back against something solid, then I can disconnect my brain for good and just enjoy my feelings.

It takes me a little time to register an alien sound; it's not our breathings, or the sounds of my hands brushing her skin, or my mouth on hers…

"Ladies!"

Cath and I break our kiss and look at each other with a frown then understand what just happened. Behind Catherine, a dishevelled Lindsey is staring at us impassively; her eyes are still puffy with sleep and she's obviously not completely awake; who knows how long she's been there.

"I am really sorry to burst that lovely bubble of yours, but if I don't get my milk fix within the next two minutes I'll be in a murderous mood all day," she states.

Cath and I are staring at her still trying to process what just happened.

"You're blocking the fridge," she adds with an edge of exasperation in her voice when neither of us is reacting.

Catherine disentangles herself from our embrace and walks away from me; she's a bit unsteady on her feet and looks mortified. I move away from the fridge, and Linds simply walks to it, opens it and retrieves the jug of milk, then she grabs her bowl, her cereals and sits at the table as if nothing was unusual. She puts her right elbow on the table rests her head against her hand as if it was too heavy to bear; with her other hand she's holding her spoon in her fist like a kid.

Catherine is staring ahead of her with a panicked expression, then she focuses again and comes to lean against the counter next to me, but not touching me.

"Linds… sweetie…" she starts with a nervous voice, she takes a shaky breath.

"Yeah, yeah, she wasn't checking your tonsils for medical purposes," Linds replies flatly with her raspy voice; making a brushing motion in the air with her right hand before leaning her head on it again, never leaving her bowl of cereals. "You're together, I got it… now breakfast time, silent time," she looks at her mother "Thank you," then she returns to her cereals. Lindsey is really not a morning person; in fact if I should describe it, I'd say she's grumpier than an angry bear.

Catherine's panic seems adamant on not leaving her face, I reach out, grab her hand, bring it to my lips and kiss her knuckles gently. She finally looks at me, she smiles a little, squeezes my hand then she goes to the living room and sits on the couch.

I decide to give her some time to handle things on her own, I don't suppose that being 'caught' by her daughter was on her 'must have moments' list, I can understand her embarrassment. On the plus side though, to me it looks like Lindsey is taking it rather well.

Catherine overcomes her predicament and joins us for breakfast. We share a silent meal and Cath all but runs off to her shower when she's done, leaving me and Linds in the kitchen. As soon as we're alone, Linds puts her spoon away and stares at me with an emotionless face but a steel gaze, letting her 'sleepy' mask from moments ago slip away, she is very awake.

"How long has it been going on?" Linds asks me once she's hearing water running.

"About three weeks and half," I simply answer. She nods, never leaving my eyes. "How long have you known?" I return her question. Linds is quiet, tough and very observant, so I have no doubt that she has known that Cath and I were together for a moment, at the very least had strong suspicions about it.

"Two," she says without flinching. "Good to know I'm not that far behind."

She takes a sip of her orange juice and stares at me again. "I really value your friendship and I care about you. You have my respect and trust, two things not many people have," she starts, her voice is firm and raw with honesty. "Now, the rules don't change," her expression hardens. "You hurt her, make her cry, treat her bad, act wrong with her; I'll never bother hearing your excuses," she marks a pause. "I'll carve your heart out with a spoon, without so much of a blink," she threats me seriously with a sharp and frosty tone, never blinking.

Her cold stare sends chills to my spine; I've seen her upset, but she never really pulled out her claws at me, until now that is. She was a teenager a moment ago, now for all I know she could be a stone cold killer.

"I have no…"

"… intentions to hurt her," she cuts me bluntly. "They never do," she smirks bitterly. "Just make sure to be the one to actually stick to those intentions… or lack thereof," she adds. She stares at me and wait for my nod of understanding before standing up, cleaning her bowl and spoon, putting her cereals away; then she walks out of the kitchen, back to her room.

Okay, message copied loud and clear.

xxxxx

I rap my knuckles gently on Cath's bedroom door, then pop my head through the small space to see if I can come in. She grins at me shyly, so I take it as an invitation. She's sitting on her bed, rubbing her hands together in a strange pattern. I sit next to her and wait.

She glances at me briefly before contemplating her hands again. "I'm sorry about earlier… for being distant…" she starts. "Lindsey… it's not really how I envisioned telling her… about us…" she continues. "To have her catching us… like that…"

"Was embarrassing?"

"Beyond mortifying," she snorts. She finally stops rubbing her hands together and turns to me. "I'm not ashamed or anything… it was just… I just wish she had learnt about us differently."

"Cath, I understand don't worry," I smile at her. "On the plus side, she took it well."

"I'm not sure about it."

"She did," on the other hand it's not exactly like it was news to her.

Cath nods with a sigh. "We're okay?" she asks me with uncertainty.

"Of course we are," I hook a finger under her chin and deliver a butterfly kiss on her lips. I stand and exit the room feeling that she still needs a little time for herself.

Linds is in the living room reading a book, she looks up when she hears my footsteps then return to her pages. I grab my own book and sit next to her.

"I received an email from Hazy, she said she might come around again soon," she tells me without interrupting her reading.

"Yeah … next month," I nod not looking at her either.

"I hope she'll stay long enough for me to get a chance to hang out with her. The last time she came you guys went on a trips with Greg and his siblings, then she was gone already."

"She wants to stay three weeks, so yeah, you'll have time to see her."

"Cool. You think we can go hang out with Brenda as well?"

"Sure."

"That's settled then."

I smile, and can only guess that she's grinning too, neither of us ever stray our gazes away from our books. Like I said to Cath, Linds took it very well.

xxxxx

"Mom, can I go with Sara to the airport?" Linds asks as I'm getting ready to go pick up my sister.

"Sure thing, sweetie," Cath replies from the couch, she's lying down on it reading.

I walk to Cath and waits for her to look at me before speaking. "You're sure you don't want to come?"

"No, I'm good," she grins.

"Alright, I'll call you later then," I start to walk away. Faster than lightening, her closest hand grabs one of tail of my vest.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" she raises her eyebrow with a smirk.

"Hmm… I got my keys, my wallet…" I touch my pockets as I speak. I know what she means but I pretend not to. "No, I got everything."

She narrows her eyes at me, pursing her lips with false irritation. I snort and bend down, I give her a sweet, languid kiss; she brings a hand on my cheek, loses her fingers in my hair, massaging my scalp; she moans a bit when our tongues touch, then she sucks my bottom lip a bit before deepening the kiss again.

Linds coughs rather loudly. "We uh… actually have a flight to catch," she says with a jaded tone.

I break the kiss a first time, but can't help myself and I capture Cath's lips one more time. Then I pull back and kiss her forehead before straightening myself up. She grabs my hand as I walk away and lets the contact linger as much as possible.

I ignore Linds who's rolling her eyes and exit the house. I climb inside my car and wait for Linds to have locked the door behind her. She gets in the car and buckles her belt, she turns to me raising her eyebrow in exasperation.

"Really?"

"What?" I frown puzzled.

"You'd think you were going to be apart for months," she states.

"Hey, I'm staying at my place today."

"Oh, poor thing," she feigns pity, narrowing her eyes for a better effect.

I snort and shake my head. After being caught by Linds three weeks ago, things were a bit awkward between Cath and I mostly because she was still embarrassed about it. Eventually she started to relax and things returned to normal. We're not always kissing one another, but she doesn't mind when we do and Linds happens to be there. I personally take it as a good sign.

"Just remember that karma is a wicked woman, Cookie," I chuckle.

"Right, whatever… just drive," she snorts.

xxxxx

"They're downstairs… we need to find a way to get the room with the plug," Greg states.

"We're trapped, there's no way we can get there without facing them," Hazy points out.

"No, no, there's a way, we go through the window, get on the roof and then move around," I declare.

We're playing a game with Greg's brothers and Dana on one side, and the rest of my brothers minus Charlie on the other. We've been playing in teams almost all afternoon. So far my brothers are winning by one point and Greg's brothers are just two points behind; and we are… eight points behind the last team, yes we are losing; but we're having fun.

My door bell rings, I groan, knowing that I have to give up my game.

"This better be good," I mumble.

"Bee, we're leaving you behind," Hazy informs me.

"Yeah, yeah don't worry."

I put my controller on the table, stand on the couch and get behind it without disturbing Greg and Hazy. I wonder who could it be, I'm off – Grissom knows that unless the apocalypse is going on he must not call me; we haven't ordered food; and the persons susceptible to come around are actually playing with us.

I look through the peephole and my frustration immediately dissipates. I open the door with a smile; Catherine is standing in front of me, her left hand playing with her keys, looking nervous and shy. My heart races a bit, I haven't seen her since Hazy arrived three days ago.

"Hey," she breathes out.

"Hey there," I beam and move aside so she can come in; I lean in and kiss her lips tenderly.

"I hope I'm not bothering," she plucks her lips.

"No, never," I frown at her question. I know we are at the beginning of our relationship, but it feels like she had the impression to always 'impose' herself. I find her shyness adorable though sometimes unsettling.

I grab her hand, still amazed at the blossoming sensation it creates inside my chest. I lead her to the kitchen side.

"Go left, left, left!" Hazy exclaims.

"I'm stuck!"

Catherine is a bit startled at their voices. "We're playing online, my brothers are kicking our asses, well Greg's too mind you…" I chuckle.

Cath shakes her head. "Hey guys."

Both heads turn to us quickly before returning to the screen "Hey, Cath," they both mumble, too engross in their game.

"The building could be set on fire for all they care at the moment," I state with a playful wince.

Cath laughs, getting more and more relaxed. "Do you want to go to the bedroom?" I ask her.

"No, I'm good here."

"Okay, can I offer you anything to drink?"

"No thanks."

I nod and grab myself a bottle of water. We're standing in each side of the counter, looking at each other. "How was your week end?" she asks.

"Good, we didn't do much; talked a lot, went out a bit, played," I shrug. "What about yours?"

"I had dinner at Nance's, Julianne cooked…" she obviously tries to hold a laugh.

"Was it bad?"

"Linds' cooking is _bad_," she specifies. "_That_ was something else."

"No way," I chortle.

"I swear, maybe she's been distracted… I don't know, it was an admirable effort, but we had to order to actually eat."

"She never cooked for you before?"

"No, but now I know why," she giggles.

"Yeah."

"Oh come on!" Greg shouts. "I don't have any ammo, I'm going back."

"Don't you leave me here!" Hazy replies.

"I need ammo…"

"I'm not going to make it alone!"

There's a series of grumps and their thumbs push the buttons more fervently.

"What are they fighting against?" Cath queries.

"Zombies… and other survivors – the other teams."

"Sounds fun," she smirks.

I put my hand on hers and start to let my fingertips wander on her skin slowly with a very light touch.

"So… what brought you here?" I ask.

"Hum…" her voice is shaky and I frown, until I realise that she's staying very still and that her breathing has increased pace.

Oh, I did that…

She pulls her hand away from my touch and shakes her head a little. "It's…" she bites her bottom lips and rubs her forehead a bit. "It's silly…"

"What?" I grin.

"It's… I thought, I'd come to say hey, before going to work… you know… since we haven't seen each other this week end…"

I smile, really touched by her attention. "Like I said… silly…" she shakes her head apparently upset.

"Why?"

"Because…" she sighs heavily. "Look at me… I'm like a teenager…didn't see you this week end and I'm acting like it's been months…"she groans and puts a hand over her eye. "…and digging a deeper hole…" this time she looks a bit angry. "It's… just…"

"Silly…" I finish.

"Yeah…" she takes a deep breath and lets it out. Her eyes meet mine and I can see embarrassment in her blue orbs, something I can't really understand. She pouts a bit, then runs a finger on my knuckles. "You make me do silly things Sidle…"

"And that's… bad?" I query hesitantly.

"No… just…" she trails off.

"I'm glad you're here, it's a pleasant surprise," I tell her after a few seconds while cupping one of her cheeks. She closes her eyes briefly at the touch; I smile at her with affection then start to lean in, attracted by her lips. I'm barely brushing my goal…

"Argh! We're dead, we're dead, we're dead!" Hazy growls.

Her voice breaks the moment and I just rest my forehead against Cath's, running my thumb on her lips.

"We were so close!"

I was so close…

I snort with amusement. "I'm sorry about that."

"It's okay… I should go anyway," she kisses my cheek before stepping away. "I'm leaving, bye!" she speaks louder to Greg and Hazy, who just mumbles their goodbye, already caught up in the new game.

Cath rolls her eyes and smirks. I walk her to the door. Just before she grabs the knob, I take hold of her elbow and gently turn her around, cup her cheek in a swift movement and make her lips prisoner of mine. I push her against the wall, softening the shock with my stretched arm; once her back is against the hard surface, I double the intensity of my kiss, not merely getting enough; yearning to feel her tongue tease mine, taste her lips and have her moans reverberating in me. I hold her as close to me as possible, yet I can feel myself wanting more contact. My head is spinning, my heart hammering strongly against my ribcage as if it wasn't big enough to contain it; the hand I have on her waist dares to slip down on her thigh; I lift her a bit and push her further against the wall, making the entanglement of our legs more electrifying, she grips me so hard that I can feel her nails through the fabric of my shirt; her moans give me shivers and I just want to double that very sensation.

"Get a room!" Hazy shouts from the living room.

I break the kiss, out of breath and a bit disoriented; my forehead connected with Cath's. "I'm going to kill them," I state in between breaths. I look at Cath and her eyes are unfocused, her lips are swollen from the kiss and blush is on her cheeks. I push a golden lock behind her ear in a soft motion then kiss her again, slower and in a more delicate way.

I break the kiss slowly and smile. "I missed you too," I confess. She nods after a second or two, still a bit bewildered.

I don't let her go until she eases her grips on my shoulders. When I step away from she stumbles a little bit, but recovers quickly. I straighten her jacket a bit then take another step back, still tempted to give into the temptation to devour her with my lips.

"I have to go," she whispers.

I nod "Yeah, I know…"

I open the door, but she doesn't leave immediately. We stare at each other, I grin then daintily caress her face with the back of my phalanxes. I capture her lips again, delivering a lingering kiss. I take a deep breath, resolving myself to let her go.

"Have a nice shift," I murmur.

She smiles and starts to walk out, my hand takes her, maybe I'm not ready after all. She chuckles and bites her bottom lip, she sighs with amusement. "Sar…" she breathes out. "I really need to go."

"I know… I know," I nod.

She kisses me, I impregnate myself with the sweet taste of her lips; she pulls back a first time, then kisses me again before stepping out of my apartment.

"Drive safe," I say when she's on the threshold.

She beams then goes away and I finally close the door, a grin plastered on my face.

xxxxx

Cath and I finally manage to have a night off together, so we went out to play pool then had dinner out. It was very, very pleasant, especially considering that we really didn't have any time to ourselves outside work for the past week.

We just got back to her house and we just made it through the door, for the sake of not giving a free show to her neighbours. With my back against her door, we've been kissing for I don't know how long – not that I care, and I'm still not tired of it.

Catherine sighs in our kiss then, pulls away and looks at me, a glint in her eyes and a suggestive smirk playing across her lips. She grabs my hands and start walking backward, tugging me along. I start to walk in her direction, then stop when we reach the couch level. She comes back closer to me, she kisses me sweetly. "I want you to stay the night," she specifies, even though I had come to that conclusion myself.

"I can't," I wince. "I have to go back to Hazy."

"You can call her, tell her you're staying with me so she doesn't worry."

"It's not that," I smile. "I can't leave her alone."

"I'm sure she'll understand."

"She would, but then I'll be the one unable to think about anything else than the fact that she's alone."

"Well…" she kisses me. "I'm sure I can find ways to distract you," she adds before kissing me again.

I pull back and sigh. "I really can't stay," I grin apologetically.

"Why?" she frowns, puzzled.

"I have to go back to Hazy," I repeat.

"It's just one night," she chuckles softly. "I'm sure she can handle it," she cups my left cheek and runs her thumb on it. "It's going to be fine, don't worry."

"Cath…" I sigh, my tone is mingled with a twinge of frustration.

Her expression loses her warmth. "I don't get it, I'm sorry," she shakes her head before stepping away from me, letting go of my hands. "You _can't_ leave her alone?" she snorts. "She's 32, I think she can handle one single night by herself," her voice is still soft when she addresses me.

I nod with pursed lips. "Fine, let me rephrase then. I _don't_ _want to_ leave her alone."

"You know…" she trails of. "You know if you feel under pressure, don't… nothing has to happen tonight… I'm perfectly fine with making out with you on the couch and then just sleep in your arms," she declares after a moment. She comes back to me, puts a hand on my cheek and looks at me with affection. "_Nothing_ has to happen," she repeats gently.

"It's not about that… I just really have to go back to my sister."

She closes her eyes briefly and sighs; she walks further away from me, passes a hand in her hair, sign that she's no longer upset but angry. "If don't want to spend time with me just say so, don't use Hazy to bail out."

"I would have asked her to stay at Greg's, but he's working tonight, I can't leave her alone. Please don't be upset," I try to reason with her.

"Well excuse me for wanting to spend time with you!"

"I want to spend time with you too!" I affirm with conviction.

"Yeah right…"

"Look, we can spend the night together, we just have to go back to my place so…" I offer.

"Hazy doesn't stay alone? Are you kidding me?" she snaps.

"No, it's a fair compromise."

"I don't want a compromise and I don't want to sleep at your place tonight. I want you to be with me with no one around, I want to have some exclusive time with you, just the two of us…"

"I want that too!"

"No you don't!" she replies firmly. "If you did, you wouldn't serve me some lame excuse…"

"It's not an excuse…" I try.

"No? You don't want to spend the night with me because you'd rather go baby sit your 32 year old sister, forgive me, but that's weak," she spits.

I don't say anything, not finding any word that could make a difference.

"You don't want to leave her alone, well that's convenient, because I'm so upset right now the only thing I want is for you to leave _me_ alone."

"I'm…" I start to apologize.

"Yeah, whatever, just… drive safely," she dismisses me before turning her back to me.

I stay there, numb, wishing that I could explain myself better. When she refuses to meet my gaze I finally comply and leave her house.

xxxxx

I hear a key working the locks of my front door and don't bother turning around. I've been playing a video game almost all night.

"I got the chocolate, the cinnamon and everything you asked," Greg announces before putting a grocery bag on the counter of my kitchen.

I sent him a text message when I came back from Catherine's, inviting him for breakfast and allowing him to use his key. It might seem weird that he still possesses a key of my place, but I trust him with it, just like he trust me with the keys of his place; that way if anything happens or in case of need we don't have to bother with those kind of details.

He puts away some things in the fridge, then comes to sit down next to me, he kisses my temple quickly then grabs a controller and joins my party.

"You look tired," he states after several minutes.

"Yeah."

"Rough night?"

"I've been repeating this level about forty times and I'm still stuck," I avoid his question, but he understands my silent answer.

"Tricky level," he simply says after a moment. "Did you loosen the valve in the red room?"

"What red room?"

"The one inside the tunnel?" I frown trying to figure out what he's talking about. "Alright, feel lucky I'm here, you'd have been there for days."

I chortle. I feel blessed to have him as a friend, he knows when to push me to talk and when not to, and he always knows how to cheer me up.

"First argument," I state not leaving the screen.

"Hmm?" I can see him frown from my peripheral vision. "Oh…" he says when understanding finally dawns on him. "Really bad?"

"Not really… but let's just say that there couldn't have been any less inopportune time to fail explaining that I don't leave Hazy on her own."

"Ouch," he grimaces a bit, I couldn't say if he's talking to me or to his character on screen. "On the plus side, now any time soon will be the appropriate time to try and explain again."

Greg and I almost never slept apart, and that from the very beginning of our relationship, so we never had to face the issue Cath and I had last night.

"Yeah but…the moment was special," I whine a bit.

"If you consider that every moment with her is special, then there will be many more of those. So, things aren't that bad, you just need to learn to express yourself better," he shrug with a pout then he sticks his tongue to the side of his mouth when he's trying a complicated move in the video game.

"How was your shift?" I change topic abruptly.

"Meh, nothing much," he replies with no enthusiasm. "Oh, you know that girl Nick likes?"

"You got to be more specific, it's Nick," I snort.

"The lab tech, she works sometimes during the night shift… short light brown hair, green eyes, medium height… glasses…" Greg inflates his cheeks and exhales slowly trying to find any detail to add.

"Wait… pierced nose… and tattoo on one wrist?" I ask.

"Yeah! That's the one."

"…Karen…Kate…Chris…," I stumble on my memory. "Kristy with a K!"

"Kristy, that's the one!" Greg agrees.

"Alright what about her?"

"So Nick likes her and we invited her to come to grab a bite with us."

"Ooh… how did it go?"

"Nick was his usual charming self but it would seem that she fancied Warrick."

"Poor Nicky."

"Nah," Greg shrugs. "It's a good thing that he works a little bit for it."

"Do I detect jealousy in your voice?" I tease him.

"No," he protests with a chuckle. "I mean, the guy's a player, always a gentleman of course, but he always has it easy, losing from time to time is good for him."

"You're so jealous…" I laugh.

"Hey, I'm the dork of the gang. My best feature is my humour, problem is if I make them laugh too much I jump from 'the cute funny guy' status to 'the buffoon'. I have to work hard to even brush the 'potential date' case."

"Oh, Rus… you poor little fellow," I pout a bit in with apathy.

"Yeah, yeah… I'm just saying, if I have to work for it, at least it's good to see that even him has to sometimes," he states with a grin.

"Boys…" I just sigh and shake my head with affection.

xxxxx

Today, I had the feeling that the shift was dragging on. I always make a point not to mix my job with my personal life. I admit twice with I crossed the line at work with Greg, nothing like being physical in a recluse corner; one time in the locker room, it was during the first days and well the exaltation of novelty was there so I did exchange suggestive words with him, the second time was when we tried to convince Warrick and Nick that we were indeed a couple but to no avail.

Anyway, even though I've been aching for a moment with Catherine to apologize and try to have a chance to explain myself properly, I've resisted my urge and work like I was supposed to. Mind you, to me, it looked like she was avoiding me. I know that the tension is my fault so since we didn't have any case together I gave her the distance she was apparently requesting.

Now that the shift is over, I've been waiting near her car for five minutes now, and my nerves are making it hard for me to stand still. I finally see her exiting the building, she's looking inside her bag probably looking for her key, I grin at the sight. My grin fades though when she finally notices me, she stops in her tracks and her expression is unmistakable, she doesn't want to deal with me. She sighs, and starts to come closer again. Even though she obviously doesn't want to talk to me, she stops at my level.

"Hey," I grin shyly.

"Hey," she echoes flatly.

"I was wondering if we could grab a bite with me right now."

"No, sorry I got to go home," she says without even thinking about my proposition, barely glancing at me before making it around the car to get to the driver side.

I watch her open the door but speak before she enters the car. "How about a coffee just before next shift?"

"Can't do either, I'd have to leave Linds alone and I can't do that now, can I?"

And one punch in the teeth…

That hurts, but I guess I deserve it.

I'm about to propose something else but she cuts me "I'll call you or let you know when I'm available," she simply says with a sigh. At least that deserves to be clear.

I nod and purse my lips. "Okay."

xxxxx

"Hazy, I swear if you're in there stealing one of my shirts again I'm tickling you to death!" I shout from the corridor.

"Oooh, now that's a threat," Greg says with blatant sarcasm. I just smack the back if his head in answer. "Ouch…" he sulks.

"What's the plan for tonight?"

"Just going to have a drink with Jas, then I'll drop Hazy back and then him and I are leaving for the weekend."

"Okay."

It's been four days since Cath and I argued and she hasn't called or made any sign that she was ready to deal with me again. I'm worried about the state of our relationship, but I respect her choice; the last thing I want is to make things worse by pushing her when she's not ready to talk.

"Bee, I'm borrowing…" Hazy starts but trails off.

"No…I don't like the beginning of this sentence," I shake my head and go join my sister in the bedroom.

"Women," Greg snorts, which earns him another smack on the head. "Hey!"

After a very firm and intransigent debate with my sister about her not taking my clothes, I…let her borrow the shirt she had her eyes on. While she's getting ready I go back to the living room, and talk with Greg about which movie we should see next time we have the chance.

A knock on my door interrupts our conversation. "Just how long does it take to your sister to put a shirt on?" Greg asks when I stand up to go to the door.

"Beats me," I chuckle.

My heart skips a beat when I see Catherine on the other side of the peephole. I open the door and she takes a moment to decide whether or not coming inside.

"Hazy, come on! I'd like to have a drink _before_ dying of old age," Greg whines.

"Don't get your boxers in a knot, give me 5 more bloody minutes yeah?" Hazy replies from behind my bedroom door. Having spent a lot of time with our mother's family

"Greg," I simply call him, he turns to me and smiles.

"Hey Cath," he comes to her and kisses her cheek. While they chit chat I go to my kitchen and start putting back the clean dishes where they belong.

"There, I'm ready," Hazy announces as she enters the room. "Catherine, good evening," she grins and mimics Greg.

"We are finally going," Greg states with feigned exasperation.

I go back to them and hug my sister, Greg kisses me on the temple and starts to walk away but I grab his ear and turn it.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow…" he complains, I just wait for him to say what I need to hear. "We'll be safe, I'll look after her and I'll bring her back in one piece," he says quickly. I don't let go of his ear though. "I promise," he adds.

"You break it and the next breakfast you'll have will be made out of your guts, got it?" I tell him seriously.

"Yes!" he winces.

I finally let go of his ear. "Good," I smile while he rubs his appendage to soothe the pain.

"Love you Hazy."

"Love you too Bee," she calls from the door before leaving Catherine and I alone in my apartment. I still can hear them bickering from behind the door as they walk away.

Catherine and I stare at each other for a moment, not saying anything. I take a deep breath and make the first move, I grab her hand and guide her to the couch.

"I'm sorry about the other day," I start.

"Sar… no," she cuts me off. "I'm the only one who should be apologizing here."

She hangs her head, pinches the bridge of her nose and sighs. She starts rubbing her hands together, watching them as she speaks. "The other day… I wanted you…" she looks at me, tilting her head leaving no room for guesses regarding to what she means, the looks at her hands again. "Nothing had to happen, and maybe it wouldn't have but I wanted you… and when… you refused to stay…" she struggles. "That rejection was hard to take… I took it very personally when it wasn't…" she sighs.

After a long silence she looks at me. "I was selfish and petty… like a teenager throwing a tantrum. Your sister is here and it's normal that you wouldn't leave her alone, it's not her city and you care… and you don't owe me any more explanation than that… and I should have push the issue and make a big deal out of it… but I really wanted to spend time with you… I just… felt… insecure… damn, I hate this word," she growls.

I can see that it took her a lot to get those words out; she's as good as me when it comes to talking about the way she feels, and I know that she had to make herself violence just to be here right now.

I put a hand over hers then entwine our fingers together. "I am sorry to have spoiled the moment. And I promise that Hazy was the only reason why I needed to leave," I assure her. She looks at me with an embarrassed expression. I grin tenderly at her, lean in and leave a linger kiss on her cheek. "I want you too, Cath… you never have to doubt it."

"So… hum… I'm ready to compromise if your offer still stands, as long as it means getting a chance to spend a little more time with you," she smiles shyly.

"Off course the offer still stands," I beam. "Thank you," I kiss her lips.

xxxxx

Cath decided that we should stay in so we rented movies and ordered food. We've been cuddling on the couch talking, laughing, just enjoying simple things.

My door is unlocked, then opened slowly when we're in the middle of the second movie. I'm sitting against one arm of the couch, Catherine is in between my legs, her back to my chest, wrapped in my arms. I kiss the top of Cath's head then look at the entry hall, where Hazy is discarding her jacket.

"Hey," I greet her with a smile.

"Hey, I hope I'm not interrupting," she winces. I shake my head with an eye roll, she comes and kiss my crown and pats Catherine's shoulder. Catherine looks at her and smiles.

"So how was your evening?" I ask.

"It was nice, thanks."

"You've eaten something yet?"

"No."

"There are some left over on the kitchen counter if you want."

"Cool."

She goes to the kitchen and prepares herself a plate. She eats on the counter then joins us in the living room, sitting on the armchair next to the couch.

"This movie is ridiculous," I state.

"It's a romantic comedy, what did you expect?" Cath chuckles.

"I don't know… comedy… there you just have… same old lovey-dovey thing going on."

"It's a romantic comedy!" Cath points out.

"Catherine's right, there are only two things you should be expecting, a plot that is just coherent, and chemistry between the main characters. The rest is just different but same old formula," Hazy shrugs. "Of course there are going to be some clichés, but then you'd be surprise at how many people can relate to those."

"I agree, I'll add good dialogues to your list though," Cath nods.

"I don't think I like romantic comedies then."

Once the credits start to roll, Hazy goes to have a shower, then to bed.

Catherine and I share some cocoa and talk a while more before deciding to call it a night. We change and Cath insists that I don't convert the couch into a bed, the closeness being more enjoyable to her, and I don't complain when she lying half on the couch, half on top of me.

xxxxx

A gut wrenching cry breaks the silence of my apartment, Cath is awaken with a start. "What was that?" she asks, but I don't bother replying and hurry to disentangle myself and rush to my bedroom.

Hazy is sitting on the bed, curl in a ball in one corner, moaning loudly in apparent pain, shaken by violent tremors; her eyes are opened wide in terror; she's mechanically digging the nails of her left hand on her right forearm, scratching the skin aggressively, rocking herself a bit.

I cautiously come to her side. "Sweet pea, it's alright," I speak in a low soothing voice, knowing that she's caught in between sleep and reality.

"He's all over me… all over me…" she says with a broken voice when she doesn't moan, not registering anything I'm telling her. I tentatively reach out for her, as soon as my hand touches her arm she savagely debates herself.

"It's alright…," I keep whispering to no avail.

She's rocking herself even more frantically; she's gasping for air and small droplets of blood start to appear on her arm where she's digging her nails.

"Is she alright?" I turn around surprised at the new voice. Hazy goes berserk at the sound, her shaking increases and moaning is even harder.

"Get out! Now! Get out of here!" I bark aggressively at Catherine before turning to Hazy again.

I inch myself closer and wrap my arms against her, she struggles violently overwhelmed with panic. "No… no…no!" she exclaims edgily.

I don't let go, and speak softly. "You're in security sweet pea… it's alright… shhh… it's alright…" I repeat in continue.

It takes her about five minutes to stop struggling completely; her shaking and panic don't fade though. She's damp with sweat and cold, I always manage to be surprise at the important drop of her temperature or how pale she is during her night terrors.

I keep murmuring soothing word, careful not to wake her; I don't let go of her until her shaking subsides, her breathing is even and she relaxes, when I'm sure she's deeply asleep again I untangle myself and take a look at her forearm, it's bleeding a bit, it's not bad and I'd like to at least pass some water over it, but it might wake her up and that wouldn't be a good thing because it might trigger another crisis later.

I exit my bedroom but leave the door ajar. I go back to the living room, then head straight to the kitchen sink as unexpected bile rises in my throat; I dry heave a few times, coughs rattle through my chest; I take a few deep breaths then wash my mouth abundantly with water until I get rid of the acidic taste lingering in my mouth. I splash some water over my face, then lean my forehead on the cold metal; breathing deeply and slowly in order to quiet my heartbeat.

I straighten myself up and am surprise when I turn around to find Catherine looking at me from behind the counter; here eyes are full of incomprehension and fear. I repose myself against the sink and sigh as I hang my head. I look at her again before speaking. "I'm sorry… for being harsh earlier… and that you had to see that…" I say with a weak voice before looking away.

I'm suddenly very aware on the tremors going through me, of the sound of a car passing in the street, of the buzzing sound of the light bulb; I hear the clear sound of repeated contact of bare skin on the linoleum then on the cold tile floor. Cath is standing in front of me but I refuse to look at her.

I hate it, that she had to witness this; I know that part of it is just my protective instincts still running wild in my veins, another is because I don't want to have to face the 'look' the one of pity, the one of contempt. I give credit to Catherine not to be like that, but I can't help feeling the way I do. And right now I feel lost, vulnerable and powerless.

I feel Catherine's hand cupping my cheek but I immediately shy away from the touch as if burned. She hesitates, but tries again. I resist the touch, try without to much will, she doesn't let anything deter her and slowly but surely secures me in her embrace, one arm around my waist and her other hand on the back of my neck. I give up and rest my forehead against her shoulder; I couldn't really say what bring my last line of defence on its knees, whether it's the soft movement of her fingertips on the nap of my neck or the warmth of her hold but eventually I circle her waist with my arms and hang onto her tightly.

An intense shiver passes through me, erupting in one single sob; she doesn't say anything, just hold me to her while I let go of my distress and allow myself to lean on her.

* * *

**The book Sara is referring to is '**_To Kill a Mokingbird_**' by Harper Lee. ;)**

**Thanks for reading  
**


	36. Chapter 36

**And I'm back... thank you for the reviews and here's more.**

**Enjoy,**

**So ;)**

**Ps: **Immi** because i wouldn't make it through without you, your swords and the little spark of insanity (not yours, but the one of you know who ;) )  
**

**

* * *

Chapter 36**

_Catherine's POV_

I open my eyes and yawn slowly. Very faint rays of light are progressively bathing Sara's living room. I take a deep breath and sigh in contentment, brushing my thumb on Sara's arm resting on my waist.

Five days ago Sara and I had our first argument, I guess I can call it like that; we parted on not so good terms. We had spent a good night out together, just the two of us; when we got back to my place we started kissing. Everything was more than good, and I could feel a certain hunger bubbling up in the pit of my stomach; the moment was auspicious, I was under the impression that Sara and I were on the same wavelength, so I started to guide us a little more in the house, at the very least to find a better position than standing against my front door.

The moment was shattered into pieces though, when she insisted on going back home to be with her sister. I never meant to be petty about it, first I found it sweet; then I thought she was nervous or 'pressured' by any of my expectations – I didn't have any, I wanted her yes, but like I told her then making out with her was more than just fine. I ran out of rational explanation as to why she was so insistent about going back to her sister; so my next logical conclusion was that I was the problem.

All my insecurities surfaced, she doesn't want me because I'm old, I'm not beautiful enough, maybe I disgust her…

I know it's ridiculous when you think that we've already been there, but that was more than two years ago, and I'm older now… insecurities aren't meant to be rational anyway.

So it's fragile, insecure and hurt that I got angry at her and throw her out. The next day she tried to talk to me, but I was still wounded so I basically shove her own words back in her throat and told her that I'll decide when I'm ready to talk to her again.

It took four days but eventually I've realise that my reaction might have been disproportional. So yesterday evening I came by and eat a piece of humble pie and apologize to Sara for overreacting; better yet I explained why, I had to put words on my emotions, if that's not maturity, I wonder what is.

What Sara and I have, the relationship we're trying to build, is very precious to me. I am, however, aware of the fact that we are not in the same emotional zone. I'm the one carrying my heart up my sleeves in permanence, while she's just developing feelings. I don't mean to be petty, because I did decide to give us a chance knowing from the beginning that we were emotionally mismatched; but as a result I feel silly most of the time, I don't want to make her run by asking too much too soon. Sometimes I feel so much for her I feel like choking and I hate what it's turning me into; I get possessive and if I don't watch myself I might suffocate our relationship in its cradle.

Last night, I understood that, unlike what I thought, there was still a lot for me to learn about Sara.

She has her own insecurities, her own moments of fragility. I found out why Sara wanted to be by Hazy's sides so much. I woke up to a blood freezing sound. I never had a chance to understand what was going on that Sara was up on her feet and running to her bedroom. I was scared, the cold, insidious kind of scare; the one gripping your guts and slowly, very slowly deploying in you to the point of chilling your bones.

I slowly approached the bedroom and saw Hazy, like a demented scared little girl, rocking herself, mumbling, sobbing… it was like she was in the room without being in it; her stare was vacant and yet filled with horror. I dumbly asked if she was okay to Sara, when it was obvious that she wasn't. The light sound of my voice made things worse and Sara threw me out in a more than cavalier manner.

When I went back to the living room, I was slowly eaten alive with worry and questions. And as insensitive as it sound I felt like running away; the feeling so utterly powerless and scared is not something I'm used to. I felt it once when Linds almost died in that car, and it's a feeling I dread and despise. Feeling like this in moments like last night, not only doesn't help but it makes you feel guilty and horrible – very, very horrible.

Once the surprise and small panic dissipate, I did the only thing I could, I waited. From the way Sara reacted I could only guess that it wasn't the first time that it happened. It took time, but slowly the agitation fade and almost an hour after the ghastly cry, Sara came back in the living room. She didn't say anything but got sick. I stood up from the couch and went to her. I was apprehensive, I felt like I had to tame a wild animal; not that she was agitated like that time she destroyed Adam's office; but she was feeling cornered, her eyes said so when she finally remembered that I was here.

And just like that time in Adam's office, I reacted instinctively. I hugged her, she rejected my touch at first but I held on until she let go, until I was in.

"Hey there," her voice reverberates against my chest in one low vibration.

"Hey," I smile even though her head is still against my torso.

"Your heart beats fast…"

"Your snoring probably scared it," I come back.

She chuckle which makes me smile even more. She moves her head so her chin is resting against me and she can watch me.

"I don't snore," she smirks.

"Keep telling yourself that," I stick my tongue out. We chuckle, then just look at one another for a moment. She reaches out a hand to put back on of my discarded lock behind my ear in a barely there touch.

"See?" she asks and I frown in response. "I woke up by your side," she grins tenderly.

"Well, if we must be technical about it… you're on top of me, not exactly by my side. No complain, but… you know, I just want to be thorough with the analyze of the situation," I state seriously. "Like Gil says, devil's in the details."

She looks at me with a deep scrutiny, her expression is serious all the sudden. "True, so let's get into the details then. Right now I'm half on top of you," she says. Without any warning she moves herself so our bodies are actually moulding against each other; her elbows on each side of my face; her legs entwine with mine, her chest against mine, her _whole_ body against mine. "Now,' she says slowly. "I'm on top."

My breath deserted me a second ago and my heart is about to abandon ship as well; all the sudden my heart jumpstarts sending a powerful electric discharge in all my body, increasing my temperature.

"See the difference?" Sara asks casually.

"Yeah…" I reply with a small voice, feeling suddenly very frail. "Quiet a difference indeed…" I swallow hard.

"Good… because details are important," she keeps on.

"They are… they are," I mumble.

How did the air turned magnetic in a fraction of second is beyond me. Sara's looking at me with such intensity, that I'm afraid I might combust. I'm lying very still, barely daring to breathe; my skin is tingling, I'm gripped by a mix of fear and elation, this is the first time I'm that physically close to her ever since we've taken a new direction in our relationship.

"I believe you owe me a good morning kiss," she states after a moment.

"I do?"

"Yeah…" her face is inching closer to mine.

"Oh…"

"I'm going to collect my due right now…if you don't mine," her voice is now a mere whisper, her warm breath burning my lips.

"Okay…" I murmur with a barely there voice.

She unhurriedly makes contact with my lips; my heart is beating so fast that my sigh of delight erupts in a faint moan. The kiss is brief but she keeps her slightly parted lips against mine, so her breath becomes mine and mine, hers. I'm breathing deeply and unsteadily. Something inside me is begging to blossom and I'm burning from within.

The tip of her tongue languidly flicks over my lips, sending a shiver through my spine by doing so; once my mouth is humid she closes her lips over mine once again; she sucks on my bottom lip in a sensual way, small waves of pleasure are crashing on me, feeding the ball of fire in the pit of my stomach. I can feel her left hand caressing my face delicately, then resting on the top of my head her thumb is brushing against my forehead; her tongue keeps teasing my lips, then I grant it the access to my mouth; I can't help moaning when our wet muscles finally meet.

I close my fists on each sides of her waist, holding her shirt in a firm grip, while her mouth is exploring mine; her right hand takes a life of her own and very haltingly traces my face, my neck before brushing my breast and stopping at my waist; it sneaks under my shirt, her fingertips are electric on my skin, they trail leisurely on my abdomen up to my ribcage; their progression ceases only when close to my chest; Sara's thumb draws the outline of my breast in such a way that I arch a little wanting more contact.

Sara's mouth leaves mine, descend on my jaw right to the crook of my neck; she kisses my epidermis like she wanted to devour me. She moves her head to my chest, lifting my shirt as she goes and trails her lips between my breasts, her thumb teasing my hard nipple; I hiss in pleasure, I'm panting, faint moans escaping my lips. I bite my bottom lip when her mouth closes on the tip of my breast, sucking delicately on it.

I'm shaking my head from side to side, like a feverish person as she adores my bosom with her tongue and lips. She moves slightly so her thigh is now subtly rubbing against my groin; it steals my breath away, I'm gasping for air, aching in ecstasy.

Sara's mouth comes back to crash onto mine, kissing me with an indescribable ardour; she pants against my mouth when she moves her leg strongly yet slowly against me; her hand keeps sculpting my body with reverence. She gently digs her teeth in my bottom lip, before kissing me passionately. My hands pass the barrier of her shirt and caress the skin of her back, discovering her chest; I want more, I want to feel everything at the same time.

She pulls back and look at me, her eyes darkened with blazing desire, the hand she has on my stomach, enters my shorts at a painstakingly slow pace, I can feel it move on each part of my skin; when she finally cups me my eyes close on their own will, my heart starts pumping blood through my veins with a violence such that it's hurting me. I feel Sara's hand gliding against my warmth and only then do I realize how arouse I am.

Her fingertips tease the most sensitive and delicate spot of my anatomy; I plunge my nails in the skin of her back, slowly rocking on the edge. Sara looks at me with amazement, memorising my every reaction to her touch. She moves her fingers lazily, taking my breath away, bringing me to a new height of exaltation.

She kisses me deeply and as her tongue touches mine she slips her fingers in my core and my eyes open wide, I heave with my mouth agape but oxygen never quite reach my lungs.

Sara moves at a torpid pace, the feel is so much I can barely take it, it's like I could feel her completely in me. My eyes roll back and I close my eyes as vertigo is washing over me. My lips are trembling at every small breaths I can take, my voice is lost – as if prisoner of my throat; the ball of fire I felt on the pit of my stomach earlier threatens to explode and expand to my whole body.

I feel high, like I've never been before. I feel myself on the verge of falling, I open my eyes again and Sara is looking at me, and at that very moment, the dichotomy between our two bodies disappears. We are one same entity.

She pushes herself deeper in me and then touches just the right mark, her eyes never leaving mine. I close my eyes when I feel an immense pain in my chest, suffocating me, like I was dying; then an incommensurably powerful fire spreads into me in a whirlwind of pleasure. I hang on for dear life, convulsing violently, my mouth open in a silent, breathless cry.

The spasms slowly decrease in intensity; my chest is burning at every laborious breath I take. The euphoria slowly turns into a deep melancholy, like I had just lost a part of myself; as if I was conscious of the nirvana I had tasted and of the fact that I might never quite reach it again.

I open my eyes; Sara is there, looking at me with an awe I can't quite explain; my melancholy changes into and overpowering feeling of felicity.

Her left hand caresses my face with such delicacy that it's like she was actually touching buried deeper into me. I can feel myself still pulsing around her fingers, small delightful shockwaves still running through me. She leans in and very affectionately kisses me. She rests her forehead against mine her breathing is matching my own and they are both mingling together, I gasp when she finally leaves me, instinctively I wrap my arms around her and hold her tight to me; so for a little more time there's only the two of us in this world.

I never felt so vulnerable and so elated at the same time; because I know in no uncertain terms that I'm in deep.

xxxxx

Sara and I stay cuddled on the couch for an undetermined time; Sara is tender, holding me in an affectionate embrace; we never break the silence, just kiss, and exchange small caresses.

Sara nuzzles in the crook of my neck and delivers a sweet kiss on my skin. She's lying on my side, our linked hands resting on my stomach, our fingers entwined. A loud growl erupts in the room; Sara laughs softly, shifts her position, lifts my shirt a bit and kisses my stomach, making me shiver a bit.

"Well hello to you too, tummy bears," she states.

"This is embarrassing…"

"At least I always know when you're hungry," Sara replies before kissing me sweetly on the lips. "Come on, let's feed the beast."

She kisses me again, I wrap my arms around her neck not to let her go, deepening out kiss. She doesn't hesitate and responds to me. My stomach however has better preoccupation and growls again, I finally let Sara go.

I smile while looking at the ceiling still amazed at how my life is turning. I stand up as well, and walk to Sara, wrapping my arms around her waist while she's over the sink, her hands covered with soapy foam. I inhale her scent deeply before kissing her shoulder blade through her shirt. She leans against me, turns her head a bit a smile on her lips, she simply offers her lips for a kiss and I please her.

She pulls back and beams. "So what do your tummy bears want?"

"Eggs and a special," I reply after consulting my stomach.

"Coming right up."

I just watch her moving around her kitchen, my heart seems to flutter each new breath I take and I can't get enough of that sensation.

I hear the sound of the bedroom door crack open, followed by unhurried and heavy footstep. I turn around and see Hazy walking, swaying a little bit; her eyes are closed but she seems to know her way. She reaches a stool and sits on it, then mechanically rubs one of her eyes like a child would do, pouting a bit. She puts her hand down and stays still, her bottom lip slightly out and her eyes not exactly opened.

Sara pours milk in a tall glass and puts it in front of her. "Morning sleepy," she whispers before tenderly ruffling Hazy's hair.

A childish smile appears on Hazy's lips as she grabs her glass; she empties her glass in one straight go, before putting it down on the counter. Sara refills Hazy's glass a second time and Hazy empties it just as fast; Sara fills up the glass to the half mark and just like for the two first glasses Hazy takes it down.

Hazy suddenly seems to awaken, her eyes open and she's smiling with contentment.

"And I thought _you_ were a junky," I point out to Sara who just chuckles in response.

Hazy brushes her right arm and hisses. She looks down, examines her forearm with a frown of confusion. She looks at Sara with fear almost.

Sara purses her lips as if silently confirming what Hazy fears; instead of saying anything she catches the nose of her sister between two fingers and makes a small honking sound, like she would say 'don't worry about it little sister'.

Hazy smiles shyly; satisfied with that response, Sara retrieves a box of cereals from the cupboard, puts it on the counter next to the now almost empty bottle. Hazy serves herself breakfast and holding her spoon like a kid, just like Sara does in the morning.

Sara finishes cooking something for her and I, then we all share our breakfast together, chit chatting about everything and nothing.

"You have plans for today?" Sara asks her sister.

"I'm supposed to meet Dana for lunch, then I was thinking about going some place new, after what I'll come back here, write, read and rest because I'm leaving on Wednesday and Charlie will be mad at you if I come back tired," Hazel sticks her tongue out.

"Wait, what? …why blaming me when you're the one getting out?" Sara protests.

"Because I'm the baby of the family and you know he just can't be mad at me, that'd be wrong," Hazy chortles.

We finish eating our breakfast and then take turns to the bathroom to shower and get dressed.

I'm getting dressed when someone knocks on the bathroom door.

"I'm leaving," Hazy says through the door. "Have a nice day."

"Thanks, you too," I smile at my reflection in the mirror, hearing Hazy walking away.

I put a towel over my head to dry my hair and exit the bathroom, rubbing my head through the cloth.

"You be careful," I hear Sara's voice.

"Yes, Bee, don't worry."

"Do you need some money?"

"No, I got everything, thank you."

"Alright, call if you need anything or if you come back late."

"Yeah, yeah, I won't talk to strangers and stuff," Hazy rolls her eyes.

"I know, I know, you're a big girl… but you stay the baby here," Sara snorts realizing that she was being a little overprotective. "Come here," she says before hugging Hazy tightly, she only lets go after kissing her little sister's crown. "Now, go, and have a good day."

"You too," Hazy smiles and walks to the door. "I love you."

"I love you too," Sara replies, then Hazy leaves the apartment.

Sara turns around, smiles when she sees me and comes to me. "Hey you," she wraps her arms around my waist and delivers a kiss on my neck; that simple contact on my skin awaken my whole body; memories from the early hours of this days come back in my mind, I feel frail with desire, so I capture her lips in a demanding kiss.

I pull the hem of her shirt out of her pants and touch her skin, I suddenly remember that I do have to go back home, pick Linds at Nance's because I'm suppose to watch her rehearsing her dance solo. It almost hurts me to break the kiss but I bluntly cut the contact between us and take a step away from Sara.

She's looking at me with surprise, equally out of breath. "I… got to go home, I promise Linds I'd watch her rehearse," I quickly say before giving into my need to feel her against me again.

"Okay," she smiles.

I awkwardly move around her keeping a small distance between us; she chuckles at my behaviour, watches me gathering my thing then she walks me to the door. She leans in for a kiss but I pull back and avoid it.

"You kiss me and I'll never leave…I need to go," I wince.

"And I'm supposed to go through my day without a goodbye kiss?"

"Oh please don't pout."

"But…" she gives me a puppy face.

"You're so unfair with me right now…" I bite my bottom lip, my whole body aching for her. "Oh hell…" I pin her to the wall and kiss her fiercely.

I pull back as soon as I feel her sneak her hands under my shirt. "Bad Sara!" I berate her and she just grins before stealing me another kiss and letting me go.

* * *

**I'll try to come back soon, but the new year is starting at the university so... it might take a little time.**

**Thanks for reading.  
**


	37. Chapter 37

**Hi everyone, thanks for the reivews. Here's more.**

**Enjoy,**

**So ;)**

**Ps: **Immi** here's a little breather ;)  
**

**

* * *

Chapter 37**

_Sara's POV_

I'm sitting on the ledge of the living room window, I grin slowly when I feel Hazy tentatively coming from the corridor.

"Why my little toad isn't sleeping?" I ask joyfully.

"Can I keep you company?" she replies shyly. I feel a pinch in my chest, when we were kids this was code for 'I'm terrified'.

Night time has seldom been a happy time in our household. Night time, generally meant that my father would let his sick, intoxicated mind run free.

"Sure thing," I look at her with an affectionate smirk.

Hazy comes and sits in front of me, she brings her knees to her chest and circles them with her arms. "Why can't you sleep?"

I shrug. "Morpheus and I aren't close buddies. What about you?" she mimics me with her shoulders but doesn't answer. "Got a lot on your mind?" I continue.

She looks at me hesitantly. "I… I'm sorry," I'm about to ask her what her apology is for but she goes on. "For the last time… when we fought…" I nod in understanding. "I just… I just really like how things were and I didn't want things to change… you seemed so… for the first time you were letting go and just enjoying everything… and…" she pauses. "I know you were right about me not being able to possibly imagine what it was like… but I can understand…"

"I know… I was… very upset, it was still hard for me… I'm sorry I lost my temper," I reply softly.

I don't fight that much with my siblings; but each time it happens it's always hurting really bad. They are the most important persons in my life, I need them like I need oxygen, if I fight with one of them, then it feels like I was stabbing myself in the chest. Months ago, when Greg and I had broken up, I had a big fight with Hazy, and if we moved on from it, we never address the issue, until now.

She's unconsciously rubs her scratched arm. She has a murky expression, and I know that she has a lot on her mind. Hazy is quite cheerful but she's very sensitive and depression is always hanging over her head like a Damocles' sword; my brothers and I are always keeping a close eye on her because the more emotionally low she gets and the worse her night terrors are, that whole equation can become a catch-22 fast, and we don't want that.

"Does it hurts?" I ask after a long silence, not wanting her to clam up.

"Not really…" she shrugs. "Was it bad?"

"Quite intense, yeah."

"I don't know if I should feel blessed or frustrated not to have any memory of it all," she whispers.

I have bad nightmares and they can haunt me for days on end, Hazy never remembers anything, she never realizes anything; when I see the look of sheer horror on her face when night terrors claim her though, I don't think it might be for the best that her brain never registers those information. If she doesn't know what her nocturnal frights are made of, she has numerous scars keeping a close record of them. It's hard for her not to be able to put meaning to her scars,

"She spent the whole night here, didn't she?" she asks, she doesn't need to elaborate, I know she's referring to Cath.

"Yeah," I reply weakly.

It now appears to me that I shouldn't have let Cath stay. Whether it's her or Greg, I'd rather they had never found out about Hazy. If Greg came as a surprise; Cath was a lack of judgement on my behalf. Hazy doesn't have night terrors every night, if they were more frequent during her teenage years; as she grew older they became more sporadic; mostly because she was more able to deal with her emotions. Some crises occur without any reason, others because she's stressed, depressed or upset during the day.

I know it's nothing to be ashamed about, but Hazy has a hard time dealing with the issue; and except for her our brothers and two of her friends nobody knows about her affliction. She sees it as an handicap and feels trapped like a tiny frightened animal when people find out.

Once Greg was staying at my place, waiting for me to return from work – we liked to have sleeping time together be it for few minutes, hours or the whole night; when I came back he simply told me that Hazy had had a bad dream, he never raised the subject again, never ask anything about it, understanding the delicacy of the situation; he never said anything even though it happened at least another four times in his presence; I've seen him handling the situation with care which is why I trust him enough to let Hazy sleep over at his when I can't be there at night time.

Catherine… I really wanted to have the night with her and didn't think Hazy would have a crisis; there were no signs of that happening, but I should have known better. I know she won't judge, but it would have been one less stress fact for Hazy to handle; I've been careless and I'm mad at myself for that.

"Babycake…" I call her softly, noticing that her rubbing motion is a little too sharp to my liking. "It's alright…" I try to reassure her.

"I know…I just…" she trails off shaking her head a bit, then stares at the window.

She's shrinking herself, slowly turning into the little girl she once was. There's something about her tonight, like she was wrapped in a blanket of shadow. I'm worried, because I don't think I've ever seen her being like this, at least while not being fully depressed.

"Do you resent us?" she murmurs, she looks at me shyly. "Do you all resent Rueben and me… for being the youngest?"

"What?" I frown. "No, why would you even think such a thing? And resent you, what for?" I ask softly, not understanding the origins of her question.

"Because we had it easy compared to you," she says. "Because you had to stand up for us and more often than not you'd take the blows that were meant for us. Rueben and I were young but we understood more than you guys knew…"

I feel like I had just received a punch in the guts, my air supply is cut off for a brief moment. We've never really talked about our childhood, be it our brothers, Hazy or I; we thought it was the best to move on, sure we helped each other, but we never talked about it openly. I'm surprised though and I feel guilty to find out that Hazy has been suffering with this kind of thoughts for so long.

"I know that many nights you stood between him and I…" she says with a wavering voice, I swallow with difficulty, feeling the proverbial golf ball firmly lodge in my throat. I breathe deep and focus to block all the memories trying to bubble up to the surface. "I wouldn't blame you if you resented me for having to do those things… just to protect me…" she's slowly losing the battle with her emotions.

It's a gut wrenching pain to think that she's been living with this weight on her chest during all these years, thinking that for one second I or the boys could possibly be bitter toward her because as the eldest we took the bluntness of our father's deviant behaviour. I know how much guilt can be a destructive feeling; I realize that the guilt she's feeling might have dragged her in the limbo of depression more often than not. Maybe it was a mistake on our behalf never to talk about it, but then again it was the only way we knew to keep moving on; each one of us learnt how to deal with it, it's taking time but I think that we're all getting there. I can't deny that there are a lot of issues that will probably never be solved; to be honest it might take us a lifetime to find a complete peace of mind, but we're not as bad as we once were when it comes to face our past.

"I resent myself for all the times I failed to protect you or Rueben… we all do…" I finally confess honestly. She looks at me in surprise, obviously not expecting my answer. Tears are streaming down her cheeks and she looks lost and fragile, I want nothing more but to take all that pain away from her.

She clearly doesn't understand how I can feel the way I do. "Hazy, look at me," I gently ask her. When she meets my gaze again I feel my heart break with all the despondency filling her eyes. "We never felt like we _had to_ protect you, we never felt obliged to anything; we could never resent you for being the youngest," I tell her firmly. "Maybe we've taken more hits than you did, maybe we've face his wrath more than you did; but rest assure that we'd do it over again without hesitation, should we have to go through it again."

I move to be closer to her, I frame her face with my hands making sure she listens to me attentively. "We love you too freaking much to let anything bad happen to you when we could help it. No matter what he did, that hurt was meaningless compared to seeing the two of you in pain."

I'm not saying that to make her feel better, it's the truth. The reason why we all stayed together to face everything is because we love each other too much to even think of running away on our own. We all protected each other, we did even more for Rueben and Hazy, because we thought that we could somehow stop our father, if not for us at least for them because they were defenceless. Yes, I have more trip to the hospital on my record, yes many times I stood between my father and Hazy; all that doesn't matter if for just a few times I managed to keep them safe.

In spite of all the despicable darkness and incommensurable pain, love manages to balance the scales even if one side's heavier than the other.

"Do you hear me? I love you too freaking much to ever stand there and not do anything to keep you safe when I can, and the same goes to everybody else, don't ever doubt it. Nothing was your fault and you should never feel guilty for anything. I'm sorry for the time I failed you, but I could never resent you, ever."

I take her in my arms as she's sobbing violently, holding onto me like her life depended on it. "I love you babycake, I love you," I repeat firmly, to make sure that she doesn't doubt nor forget it.

xxxxx

"Bee, you're going to have to let me go eventually," Hazy states jokingly, even though she's not making any sign to break our embrace. She's going back to California, and as always whenever she leaves – her or my bros, I just can't let go.

"You be careful and make sure to call me as soon as you get home, no matter the time okay?" I repeat my demands.

"You know I will."

"I love you babycake," I whisper in her ear, she tightens her hold on me and buries her face against my shoulder.

"I love you too Bee."

I take a deep breath and resolve myself to let go, even though it feels like a limb was taken away from me. We smile at each other, both very sad to part, but we don't add anything. She turns to Greg who's next to us and hugs him tightly before letting go. She smiles one last time then starts walking away to the check point where the visitors aren't allowed anymore. Just as she's about to cross the check point, she turns around and runs to me, she holds me tightly, this time I can feel her crying a bit.

"I love you Bee," she repeats with more emotions than earlier, her silence speaks much louder than any words could, and I can hear her loud and clear.

I hold her tight and force myself to stay compose. I kiss her temple three times then. "I love you too, don't forget it."

She looks at me with tear filled eyes and nod. I pinch her nose sweetly and make the honking noise she likes, making her grin through the salty water running down her cheeks. "There you go," I grin back. "Now, shoo, you have a flight to catch."

She chuckles, kisses my cheek and runs back to the check point, this time not turning back. I watch until I can no longer see her, then take a deep breath to get my emotions back in check, but I'm about to lose the battle with my emotions. I glance at Greg who's giving me some space, and the affection in his eyes is making it harder for me to control myself.

"Did you know that aliens gave up eating clowns because they thought they tasted funny?" he states with a serious frown.

I look at him in surprise before bursting into an unexpected and incongruous laughter.

"See, I'm a great source of knowledge," he beams.

"Let's go, smarty pants," I check my head and turn around so we can go back to the parking lot.

When I reach my car, I call my brother Charlie to let him know that Hazy was safely in the plane and that she'll be back home soon.

"Alright, I'll see you at work then," Greg says.

"Thanks for helping me out and taking Hazy to the airport, I was really afraid not to be able to make it in time."

"No problem, you know she's like my own sister, I would never leave her in the jam."

"Yeah, well thank you very much Rus."

"You're welcome," he winks at me. "Drive safely," he grins at me.

"You too, see you at work," I reply before climbing into my car.

I was stuck at the lab for longer than expected; I had to bother Greg during his day off so he could take Hazy to the airport. In the end I managed to be there with a few minutes to spare to give a proper goodbye to my sister.

xxxxx

I stumble on my feet and walk to my door with eyes half closed. I'm surprised to find Catherine on the other side of my door.

"Hey there," she says shyly with a tight smile. "I woke you up, didn't I?"

"Meh," I shrug.

"I…" she sighs. "I can't think of a reason to be here, except that I wanted to see you… and follow that idea… never thinking that you could be sleeping…" she struggles. I just blink, grab one of her hands and tug her inside. I lock the door and lead us to my bedroom.

I take off her jacket without a word; I start unbuttoning her shirt slowly, looking at her; she doesn't say anything, but her breathing is getting heavier; I undo her belt, open her pants and undress her, she puts her hands on my shoulders to keep balance when I make her step out of her pants.

She's standing in front of me in her panties and bra, I unhook her bra and she immediately folds her arms on her chest as if embarrassed of her own body. I grab a clean t-shirt in my dresser and come back to her, I put the shirt over her head and she passes her arms through the sleeves holes one at a time. I take her hand again, move us onto the bed, and under the cover. I spoon her from behind, holding her as close to me as possible.

I simply kiss her shoulder. "Night."

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**I know it's short but I'll come back with more**.

**Thanks for reading.**


	38. Chapter 38

**Hola everyone. Happy new year and best wishes. I know it's been ages since I've updated but I did as fast as I could. **

**Enjoy,**

**So ;)  
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* * *

**Chapter 38**

_Catherine's POV_

I turn on my side and awaken a bit when my hand meets nothing but the sheet of the bed. I crack my eyes open sleepily and see for myself that I'm alone in bed. The place next to me is cold, which lets me know that it's been a while since Sara has left.

I stretch with a yawn and get out of bed; while I'm walking through the corridor I rub one of my eyes with the back of my hand. I sigh deeply when I enter the living room, Sara is lying down on her couch, one arm over her eyes and the other next to her ear.

"Rus… we can't do that … we can't tell her… not now…" she sighs; her voice startles me as I hadn't realized she was on the phone. "I know that…but I don't think the moment's appropriate… I know that… look, I'll come by as soon as I can, in the meantime we keep this between us. Then we'll find a way to handle it together…" she marks a pause.

Rus? Was she just speaking with Greg? I take a step back into the corridor, pain slowly creeping into my veins.

"No way…" she chuckles. "I can hear her 'Oh Russell, you're such a gentleman'," she says with a funny voice. "Hey now, where's the love bro?"

Russell… she's talking to her brother. I first smile to myself with relief, but that smile quickly fades as I realize that I might have a trust issue regarding Sara as my lover.

xxxxx

"So Sara and I have been in a romantic relationship for about three months now," I declare after long minutes of silence. "And it's great, really. It's exactly what I wanted."

"But?" Adam encourages me.

"But reality is harder than fantasies," I sigh with frustration and stand up. I walk from one side of the couch to the other like some caged animal. "I've had feelings for Sara for a while, had them and been aware of them. In my fantasies I'd be happy as soon as I get with her. And I was for a while, because she wanted it too, I'm not the one who got her into this, she actually wanted it. The problem is that reality kicked in; and in reality I'm eaten alive, day after day, by my inability to accept the fact that she was him… with Greg and that she loved him."

I pass a hand over my head. "He's always there, even when he's not, he's there. For instance, she called him to take her sister to the airport… she could have asked me. When I told her so, she said that she knew I was with Linds and that I couldn't have made it. Which was true, but… she still could have asked!" I exclaim with frustration.

"It's like that thing they have… they hang around with each other's family like it was okay… they talk a lot together, they… they share something Sara and I don't have…" I sigh. "I told her how, it felt weird to me… and she said that Greg and her had always been that close regardless to any romance between them; that actually her and I had never been close enough for me to notice…"

I sigh and sit down again. "It's unsettling to have them that close…"

"You're jealous."

"Yes Adam, that much is obvious, try to keep up, please," I say with exasperation.

"Are you doubting Sara's…'" Adam trails off, probably looking for the right word. "… commitment to your relationship?"

I suck in a breath. "No…" Adam stares at me. "No, Adam, I don't doubt her," I tell him firmly. "It's just my insecurities bubbling up and tainting everything."

"Define 'tainting'," he says.

"Every conversation we have, any confidence she makes, I can't help wondering if she's had them with him; I learn something new about her and I think 'he probably already knows that'; when we go somewhere I wonder if he took her there…" I start rubbing my hand reflexively. "I know it's not a healthy line of thinking but I can't help it…I just can't help wondering if we're building something or just re-enacting their relationship…"

I look at the window behind Adam and gather my thoughts. "They don't see each other that much you know… most of the time they talk about video game, magazine articles, some vehicle or any mundane stuff… they're not that touchy feely either, not that they ever were… but I see that and I think of the two of us, and I realize that we don't have that. Of course the rational part of my brain tells me that it's normal, they've been friends since she got here while her and I have been friends for just two years and that's a rather large ball park figure. I can't possibly have the connexion with Sara instantaneously… but I want it… I want it bad… and I keep feeling like I'm always behind."

I look at Adam, who's looking at me silently. The funny thing is that even after almost two years I still hate that he can make me voices the things I bury deep inside of me; that he can force me to face my issues. Sure he's always subtle about it, but I hate it nonetheless.

"You're jealous," he repeats his previous statement. And here I thought that he could never disappoint, I'm shocked to see that sometimes he doesn't deliver.

"Seriously?" I frown in disbelief. "You can't find anything better to say than repeating yourself?" I snort bitterly. "What is it? You're too lazy to work today or just not interested?" I keep on. "Get on your game man, or tell me to leave but don't give me that."

He takes a deep breath. "Jealousy is the most underrated disease. It starts as a small dark spot, but then it spreads like a cancer; and before you know it, it defines your life and your relationship."

"It's not just… the Greg issue…" I growl. "It…" I sigh. "I love her," I state out loud. "And no, before you ask, I haven't told her in those terms but she knows. I've been straight about that point the day things really changed between us. And I didn't need to come to you to realize that this difference in the emotional level might be the origin of my jealousy," I state.

"She's great really and I know she feels something even though to label it as love would be perhaps premature. She's just going through the normal, regular development of feelings. I know that, I mean I'm the one two steps ahead. But…" I trail off and stand up again.

I sigh deeply, and something more hits me. "Sometimes I catch her watching Linds and I…" I trail off. "And it's not a dreamy expression of happiness; it's more like a gloomy, depressed look, one saying what the hell have I gotten myself into?"

My throat tightens just as I can picture one of those looks just as I speak about it. "It makes me thinks that maybe she's not ready for this or that maybe she doesn't want that much involvement. She's friend with Linds, but now she has to be a little more than that… well she doesn't have to but… that's what our relationship implies," I bury my face in my hands.

I face Adam again. "On second thoughts, it still brings it all back to Greg. He's young, and free from family responsibilities… everything I'm not… I hate him…I hate myself for feeling that way but I do, because I can't handle or accept the fact that he has history with her."

"Catherine, you and Sara both have past relationships, you can't reproach her with that."

"Don't you think I know that?" I almost shout. I let out a deep breath to compose myself again. "I'm not even reproaching her with dating him; I'm reproaching her with being still close to him. He hurt her badly, their break up taught me that much and yet now it's like nothing had happened, and they seem closer than ever. The thing is that no matter how she puts it, he's not just her best friend, he's her ex, and that's just the bothersome detail of it all."

"She asked me you know? She asked if her relationship with Greg was going to be a problem. I told her that I had a hard time with them being as close as they were. After a long time reassuring me she let me know in no uncertain terms that if I ever asked her to choose between me and her family and friends, I'd lose without any second thoughts."

"You think it's unfair, don't you?"

"Of course. Why can't she see that she's hurting me?" I reply.

"But she's not, you're the one hurting yourself," Adam simply says as if it was the most evident thing in the world. "You're the one who's focusing on her past relationship, and by doing so you're pushing aside the one you're having with her at the present. Worse, you're spoiling it for yourself."

I sigh deeply, I know he's right, but it doesn't help my feelings.

"If Sara couldn't accept Lindsey, what would you do?"

"I'd break up with her, I mean as much as that'd hurt, I can't be with anyone who can't commit to my daughter as well."

"Then just as Sara commits to you and your daughter, commit to Sara and her family and friends. We've seen that since the beginning, relationships whatever they are, it means compromising. You can't change people, so you have to take them the way they are; if you don't like it, then you have to work on yourself to be more open," Adam declares. "I'm not saying you must accept every and any thing; just that you have to accept the fundamentals. For Sara family and friends are fundamentals, therefore you must accept it."

"What if I don't?"

"You might not like the consequences," is all Adam replies.

"So it's all about me, I'm the one who has to take charge and do what I have to in order to accept what bothers me, that's what you mean right?"

"All I said was, you need to learn to compromise," Adam clarifies.

xxxxx

I receive a message telling me that we have a crime scene to attend to. The night was being quiet and since I'm done with paperwork I'm more than grateful for the chance to go on the field.

I exit my office and as I walk into the corridors I can see Sara inside a lab, sitting on a stool and looking at pictures; she looks exhausted. She doesn't sleep lately, and whatever's in her mind she keeps it to herself, which hurts me a bit, but I convince myself that she just needs time; after all she's never been one to talk easily.

Greg suddenly comes to sit on the stool next to her. He looks at her affectionately for a moment without Sara noticing, or rather enjoying his attention. He says a few words, there's a bit, then Sara smiles almost against her will; he says something and wavers his fingers in front of her before kissing the back of his hand and then extending it back to her face as if she'd kiss it too. This time she laughs, and I just feel my heart hurting again. I've been trying to cheer Sara up unsuccessfully, he just has a few words to say to have her laughing.

I close my eyes to contain my emotions, look away and take a deep breath. When I'm composed again, I go to their lab and knock before entering.

They stop talking as soon as they see me. That's probably just because they're waiting for me to say something, but I only feel like I had caught them doing something wrong.

"We have a case," I tell Sara.

She sighs tiredly. "Alright, let's go then," she says before standing up. "Beep me if you get anything," she orders Greg without looking at him before exiting the room.

I'm about to follow her but take a decision and turn back to Greg. "Could we have a breakfast, just the two of us, after the shift?"

He frowns at my request. This has to be the first time I ever ask him to spend time alone with me after a shift. "Uh… yeah sure, why not?" he smiles after a moment.

"Good, can we go to your place?"

"Of course."

"I'll meet you there later then."

And with that I leave. I know what Adam said about consequences and such. All I know is that I should be swimming in an ocean of bliss because I'm with the woman I love; the reality is that I'm nowhere near happy. I'm just eaten alive with doubts, jealousy and pain. That's unfair. So I've decided to do something about it, but I need Greg's help – as much as I hate to admit it.

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**Alright, I'll be back with the next chap. But on a good side, I've been preparing the sequel so... I wasn't idle when I was away ;)**

**Thanks for reading  
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	39. Chapter 39

**Hi everyone, thanks for the review, here's the new chap.**

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* * *

**Chapter 39**

"Sara?" I call gently; her eyes focus on me again, she looks disoriented. "You didn't finish your sentence," I add.

"Did I?"

"Yes," she doesn't seem to remember her thought. "What to do when communication…" I echo her previous words.

"Right…" she sighs. "It can't work."

"What can't?"

"The communication…"

"How so?"

She rubs her eyes, and looks away. "Something is off…"

I must admit that for the first time in the three years that I've been seeing Sara it is the first time that she's hard for me to follow.

"There's something in your office that doesn't fit…" she frowns. "By the way… Sidney says hi," she adds out of the blue.

"What did you mean by the communication can't work?"

"I went to California with Catherine and Lindsey last week end. And Sidney said hi."

I'm unsettled by the fact that I can't channel Sara. Usually, I find a way to reach out to her, but right now it's like we were talking two different languages.

"How is he doing?" I decide to take another approach.

"Alright," she responds to me for the first time after a long silence, at least I think she's answering my question. "He's alright…"

She's finally back with me.

"He's expecting a baby…" she informs me with a small grin. "Well… his wife is…they are expecting a baby."

"He must be excited."

"Hmm?... oh yeah… yeah he is," she replies absentmindedly.

"How do you feel about it?"

She frowns as she looks away. "Someone else was here," she states.

And I lost her again.

"In California?" I must admit that I'm a little confused by her unsteady thoughts.

"No… in your office," she stands up and walks to the library. She takes six books out of it and put them back in different places. I can't help but smirk a bit; she'll never stop to surprise me, she has memorized the organisation of my library. And here I was asking myself what she was thinking about during the sessions with Catherine when she doesn't speak much, now I know.

She returns to the couch but stays stand and paces. "You're not comforting me… I mean nobody can possibly come into a shrink's office for their pleasure… I know I hate coming here… even after all this time," she rants. "The tight order of your books… the way you sort out the beverages in your fridge… the orientation of the couch and your chair… the way the light casts shadows in the room… those are the things that comfort me somewhat, because they are always the same; and this permanence keeps me grounded… they are my marks, I can focus on them when I don't want to be in here, when I don't like the conversations we have…"

She rubs her forehead as if she was trying to soothe a headache. "Those details also give you a human dimension… the chaos in your library is a reflection of yourself somehow… it shows that something is wrong which upsets me in return because I come here to have your help to see some clarity in the mess clouding my head…but what kind of clarity can I expect when you're not even in a clear state of mind?" she asks with a frown. "Don't tell me you hadn't noticed that your library was a mess," she points a finger at my furniture. "You are _obsessed_ with order, and we both know it," her voice is steady when she speaks, she seems more intrigued than upset.

"I did notice," I confirm.

"Then why didn't you do anything about it?" she asks with confusion.

"You arrived," I simply say. "One of my sons borrowed some books. He put them back randomly. I noticed the oddness on the shelves so I told him to pay a little more attention when he puts things back where they belong," I explain.

She seems assuaged by my explanation, perhaps more about the fact that I'm not the one to have put the books back in disorder.

"Some people don't understand the importance of details," she says before sitting down again. She stares at the library in silence. "It's the little details that make a difference, you know?"

"What details are we talking about?"

"Rueben loves the car models…" she chuckles and once more disconnects herself from our conversation. "We built that… small car, with a…an engine and everything, it looked like a race car…" she giggles. "The advantage of being seven kids is that everyone is assigned to something… the building process, the brainstorming… this is so much fun…" she smiles. "Rueben… he had the best ideas and he's freaking brilliant when it comes to build things… Hazel was the youngest, she was clumsy with the tools so we assigned her to the decoration… the car was uh… it was flamboyant red… with clear blue and green flames on the sides, a big S on the hood and of course pink wheels…" she chortles and shakes her head.

She passes a hand on the back of her neck, her eyes holding a far away gaze. I'm trying to figure out why she's telling me that particular story, or at least why this is the story that came to her mind and why now.

"We made test rides… the car wasn't complete then…it was just the wheels and the engine on the car frame… it was very fast…hard to control but a real jewel of mechanic… we had calculate the precise weight of the top of the car, so it'd be heavy enough to give us good control, without impairing the speed… it was perfect… Flashing Zunder, that was its name," she beams.

"Zunder?" I echo her.

"Well it was meant to be 'Thunder'… but Hazy was missing her front teeth then so that's how it sounded when she named it, it was our pride and joy," she keeps smiling before turning her head to the library again.

"How fast did it go?" I ask, trying to keep her with me.

She's staring at my books and her smile slowly fades. It's like she was fascinated by my books because I call her twice but don't get any response. The connection has been broken again.

Sara has always been the hardest one to handle, not because of her temper, but rather because of her experience with shrinks. She knows the tricks, she's careful and always is keeping me at length. However there's a reason for me to be in my seat, and one for her to be on the couch.

I can't force Sara to focus on me, but I can follow the path she has opened for me.

"It's still off…" she whispers. "I can't say whether it's because I saw it disturbed before, or if I'm missing something… I just _know_ it's off…" she keeps on.

"How fast did it go?" I repeat my previous question.

Anger twists her features and her knuckles turn suddenly whither under the pressure on her fists; she closes her eyes and her breathing becomes heavy. She opens her eyes and tilts her head and a depreciative rictus tugs at the left corner of her lips, she glares at the books then stands up.

"Pliers, hammers, screw drivers with flat head, screw drivers with cross head, monkey wrenches, adjustable wrenches… always in that order," she raises a hand, her pointer finger standing out and her pinkie finger not completely bent, her voice is strained but sharp, I can hear her frustration and latent anger ringing with each words. Right now she's not talking to me but to the library. "The tools must be sorted by size…" she approaches the library "…on a perfect line on the right side of the countertop…"

The more she speaks and the more anger spills out of her throat, her jaw is contracted to her word are coming through her teeth. "They _must_ be at a perfect 90° angle…" her breathing is heavier by the second. This is the first time that someone else is speaking through her, because those aren't her words, they belong to someone else. "Use the lines on the countertop as a mark is you're too… damn… _stupid_… to know what a 90 _fucking_ degrees angle represents…"

She reaches the library, in front of one of the books she has moved earlier. "One dumb as dirt can do it, so don't you tell me it's hard to remember, because there's no such thing as a dumb as fuck Sidle," her voice becomes suddenly soft.

She takes the books and now I know what detail set her off; she had put it upside down. She turns it at the right 90° degrees angle and puts it back in its place. Now I understand why she told the story, but I know there's something more and that if she gives me the key of that story, I'll be able to make the right connexion with everything she has told me since she arrived here.

"How fast did the car go?" I hold on to my question. She keeps staring at the book before rubbing her forehead with her left palm.

"Sara?" I call her as softly as possible knowing that the moment is fragile.

She finally turns her head in my direction, and though her eyes are at my level, she's not seeing me. She looks away, and puts the palms of her hands against one another, creating a friction. She walks back to the couch and sits down again, she rests an elbow on the armrest and then leans on it.

"I wanted to introduce Catherine to my mother… and she bailed… I know my mom is in prison so that was an expected reaction but it was the way she basically made me understand that she could deal with my family only if she didn't have to deal with the fucked up part of it…"

So close and yet so far. I was right to stick with the car, but I couldn't bring down the last wall of Sara's defence. Now, she has switch to something else again; we are having a deaf conversation, I ask her what the weather is like and she gives me the time as an answer; I ask her what time it is and she names a colour… we are not on the same wavelength at all.

"I can't really blame her," she snorts.

I decide to fallback for the moment; but I'm not letting go.

"It's hard to want a family… I'm talking about… expending our bloodline here…we have a fucked up background… and we all have different issues because of it, but we've learnt to deal with… but… dealing with things never changes the fact that we are walking on a thin line…" she trails off, before looking away again and I can see her shutting me out, yet I'm relentless so I charge one more time.

"How fast did Zunder go?" I ask yet again.

Maybe it's the fact that I used the beloved name of the object instead of describing it as a simple 'it' or 'car', or maybe she's tired of hearing the same question over again; either way I can see the wall about the crumble down.

"We'll never know…" she shrug after a very long silence.

I want to ask her why but keep my lips seal and just tilt my head to the side. Her lower lip starts to quiver and her eyes are shining a bit. Once again her anger takes over, so she keeps her composure.

"We learned that 114° were a far call from 90°…" she states. "90… that's the number of times he hit that _stupid fucking shit of a car_ with his hammer… he destroyed it, it was damaged beyond any repair… he wanted to make sure that 90 would become a number we wouldn't forget ever again," she snickers. "114… is how many times his belt whistled in the air before the heavy buckle licked our skins…" she trails off and scratches her jaw absentmindedly. "The funny thing is that I didn't care… that day I didn't feel anything when he passed his anger on us…none if us did… all we could think about was Zunder… and how each hit on it felt like a breath cutting punch in the guts…" she muses. "He was a good teacher… my dad, not so much of a role model but …hey, nobody's perfect," she chuckles with sarcasm.

There we are, my first opening.

"Are you scared Sidney will… start a new cycle?" I tiptoe.

"Abused kids have more chances to be abusive themselves than other… sure we are not our father but…" she cuts herself with a shake of her head. "I love my brother," she states firmly. "Sid is a good man and I'm sure he'll be a great father…I mean I was also scared when I…" she pauses, still reluctant to share her thoughts, she clears her throat. "When I learnt about other Charlie's fatherhood…" she finishes.

"I don't know…" she shrugs. "Somehow, learning about Sid's incoming fatherhood… brought back memories and insecurities to the surface…"

"Such as?" I push.

She looks at me and hesitates for a second before answering. "Childhood memories mostly…" she says.

She's trying to back-pedal when she realizes that she has just opened up. "And those drag other issues back to the surface… which leads me to more memories… and as a result I feel overwhelmed and under pressure… and I," she winces before looking away.

Rare were the times when Sara was truly out of her depth. Unlike Catherine, she's not 'in touch' with her emotions; she absorbs everything and contains it all in her impassivity bottle; unfortunately sometimes all the emotions create a pressure and inevitably the cap of the bottle pops off when the said pressure is too great. My concern comes from the fact that Sara is unable to channel this 'overflow' of emotion in a healthy way, which is why I have to trade carefully and pay a close attention – closer than usual that is; otherwise she might enter a new self destructive cycle.

"I'm not good enough… I know I'm not…" she says. "She denies my past… and it's like she was shoving it down my throat…" she snorts. "I should feel lucky she's even trying to put up with me… I know I'm a handful when I'm like this…" she pushes the ball of her hands against her eyelids.

Like I said, self destructive behaviour. It starts with self depreciation, it only goes downhill from here in Sara's case. She's emotional even though she's trying to hold it in, and I can see her slowly crumbling down. It's like watching a panel of glass slowly shattering into pieces. I can see the cracks appearing and running along the glass, but I can't determine the origin of the cracks; and until I find that point of impact, I'll only slightly delay the moment Sara reaches breaking point.

"What do you mean by 'like this'?" I keep her on track.

"When everything is…" she's shaking one of her thigh up and down at a quick tempo. She tries to find the right word but can't, which frustrates her. She buries her head in her hands

"I should be happy… I'm with the one I want to be with," she suddenly states. "Instead of that I'm ruining everything… just like I did with Greg. I let my past submerge me, I make it hard for Catherine to stand me… I make her feel insecure… and I hate that she seems to only love the 'image' she made herself of me… because now I know I'll never really be what she's expecting… she deserves better… and I'm just tainting everything with my past…" she's ranting, her voice hardening at each words. "And it's not just my childhood and teenage years, it's also my relationship with Greg. It's everything that had a big impact in my life… it's my fault things aren't working… and I'm so mad at myself for being so screwed up…"

Sara has been raised to be 'perfect' and her father basically made her understand that anything that was going wrong was her fault; because she's worthless of every and any thing. So even though people around her might be at fault too, she'll always reject the fault on herself; just like she will hurt herself as a punishment and as a release.

When I can actually try to get through to Sara in her self depreciation, and 'contain' her; should she starts to harm herself, then she'll start a catch 22. If she finds a release in harming herself, she'll then feel angry toward herself which will increase her feeling of being worthless which in return will lead to a greater need for release.

"You said that you were tainting everything with your past relationship with Greg, what did you mean?"

"That relationship brought new issues… and I don't think I can handle them… but I think about it all the times and… I even have nightmares about it… and everything is… "

"What issues?"

"And I feel so… all the time and I don't feel confident in my ability to control myself…"

"What issues, Sara?"

"Don't make me talk about it… please…" she begs with a little voice and suddenly breaks down. "I don't want to talk about it…" she buries her head in her hands and I can see tremors shaking her body.

"Would you like to take a break?" I ask softly and she nods her head without looking at me.

I stand up and go to the counter, I first decide to make her some tea, in the hope that it'll will somewhat assuage her a little bit; but for some reason I decide to go with a mug of cold milk for the both of us.

I return to Sara, put one mug on the coffee table then go back to my seat. Sara is still trying to regain some composure, hidden from the world.

I'm in a pickle right now; Sara said it herself, she's not feeling like she could handle herself, and I ethically can't let her harm herself without doing something about it. At the same time I don't want to act prematurely; I've established a certain degree of trust with Sara, therefore I need her to give me the go, I need her to ask for my help on the matter; if I act on my own then I might as well hand her knife. Yes, her distress is evident, but I'll have to wait for her to reach out for me.

I focus on her when I hear a change in her breathing. She's heaving, trying to catch her breath, her eyes still overflowing with tears; she hiccups and passes her left hand over her cheeks to erase the salty liquid; she sniffs, her breathing irregular but slower already. She looks at the library and focus on it, getting grounded again.

When she's calmer she looks at the coffee table and sees the mug on it. She chuckles a bit and clears her throat. "Sometimes you freak me out," she states. "Charlie would bring me milk when I was… emotional," she adds.

I smile inwardly, now that she has let go a little bit, she seems to have a better grip on her emotions. She's still on the edge, but with a better balance. She grabs the mug tentatively and takes a sip out of it.

"Cinnamon?" she asks and I just nod with a soft smile. "Nice touch."

"You're welcome."

She's a bit huddled on the couch, as if she was fighting herself not to make a ball of herself. She's ashamed for breaking down like she just did; it is no doubt that she feels weak at the moment and hates herself even more for it.

"I'm scared to be like my father," she speaks again after at least ten minutes of drinking her milk in silence. "He snapped under pressure. I feel so angry all the time, and I feel this need… so strong, to let it all out," she says with clenched teeth. "But I know that if I do… I'll…lose complete control of myself and maybe I'll cross lines I shouldn't."

"The issues brought by your relationship with Greg… have you ever discuss them with him?"

"No," she shakes her head. "It was too painful then… and it still is," she sighs. "If I could just talk about them with Cath, then everything will be better," she looks at me, begging me with her eyes to tell her that she's right but we both know it's not the answer. "I wish it'd be simple like that."

"Greg isn't speaking to me anymore. Well he is, but… he's been putting a lot of distance between us for the past two months. We don't hang out like we've always done, and when I point it out to him, he says he's tired, or that we'll hang another time… but we never do," she snorts. "Not to sound paranoid but that's an escape if I ever saw one. I'm losing my best friend… and I don't handle it that well," she whispers her last words.

"How does he feel about you and Catherine?"

"He doesn't mind, I mean he's happy for me, at least that's what he said when we had a chance to discuss about it six months ago," she shrugs. She frowns and thinks about it before shaking her head. "Greg isn't like that, he wouldn't say he's okay with it if it wasn't the case."

"Yet you feel like he's distant."

"I don't feel like he's distant, I know he is," she says firmly, slightly irritated that I'd doubt her.

"There could be several reasons to explain his behaviour. Maybe he has troubles of his own and chose to deal with them alone," I offer. "I understand that you were close before; but you've been even closer than you used to be when you were together as lovers, maybe he's just putting back the 'friendly' distance between the two of you, you know, drawing back the lines, so there's no confusion."

She stops her movement suddenly as if a thought was bothering her. She frowns and looks at the carpet intently.

"Sara?" I call her softly.

I see anger on her feature, but it quickly turns into something close to hurt and panic; for a second there I think she's going to breakdown again but she composes herself quickly. She has 'left' the room though, she's rocking herself a little bit and is becoming agitated. I don't know what triggered this reaction, if it's my words or if a foreign thought has invade her mind unexpectedly.

"Sara," I call again.

"No…no, no…" she mumbles as she bumps one of her fists repeatedly but softly against her forehead as if she was berated herself with something. She takes a deep breath and shakes her head quickly. "It can't be…"

"What can't be?" I ask; she looks at me like she just remembered I was there.

"I get anxious," she changes. "You know like… I suffocate…" she changes topic and I feel like we're back at the beginning of the session, she's lost in her thoughts again and I'm not on her frequency.

"Sometimes… I'm having a fine evening with Linds and Cath and we are all playing a board game or just having diner… they'd laugh and then… I feel like I couldn't breathe anymore… and they are like far from me, like I wasn't there anymore, and then… there's… that deep anger bubbling up and I find myself wanting to smash something really hard… so I just… go and isolate myself because if I don't…then I'm afraid that I'd actually give into my urges and that one of them might get hurt… I don't know what I could do if I did hurt them…"

She stands up and starts pacing; one of her hand is raised in the air and she moves it in circles, closing and opening it, like she could grasp word by doing so.

"This is wrong… I should never feel like that, not when I'm surrounded with people I care about…it never happened before…" she says with frustration.

"Do you think you can handle being around people right now?"

She stops her pacing and looks at me with puzzlement. "What… what do you mean? Are you telling me that I should break up with Catherine? That's your solution?" her anger is now directed toward me.

"I never said such a thing."

"Really, because that's how it sounded."

"Sara, I've never told you what to do, I won't start now. My question is simple, I've been listening to you and now I just want to know if you think you can handle being intimate with someone, when you are obviously struggling with a lot of things."

She opens her mouth to speak but stops herself. She purses her lips and shakes her head; she feels cornered, she puts her hands behind her neck. She growls in frustration and shoots in my coffee table.

"I want to be with Catherine," she says firmly.

She grabs her belongings, effectively putting an end to our meeting. I speak again before she reaches the door.

"We both know you haven't answered the question; and I have no doubt of the fact that you understand the importance of figuring that answer."

"You want to know what I feel right now?" she snorts bitterly. "I want to punch your face in," she adds seriously.

"Feel free, Sara," I simply answer.

She laughs with a latent anger. "I better go," she announces before exiting and slamming the door behind her.

* * *

**Thanks for reading**


	40. Chapter 40

**Hey everyone, thanks for the reviews, here's the new chap.**

**Enjoy,**

**So ;)

* * *

**

**Chapter 40**

_Sara's POV_

"Brass, why the long face?" I greet him as I arrive on my crime scene. He holds the yellow tape up so I can pass under it.

"No one is with you?"

"We're swamped; Griss sent us all flying solo. What do we have?"

"Elizabeth Parson, twenties, beaten to death."

I stop in my tracks and turn to the sweet faced man. "You've always known just the right way to ruin my day, Jim," I sigh.

"I aim to please," he replies with a sad smile. "It's not a pretty sight at all."

"When is it ever?" I simply reply. "Alright run it all by me."

"Victim was on the phone with a friend, the friend heard screaming and hits before being disconnected; the friend called the police, and we found Miss Parson on the floor, gone."

"Do we have a suspect?"

"Not at the moment."

We both walk into the crime scene, I take a look around.

"No forced entry," Jim's voice echoes from behind me.

"Fucking hell," I mutter to myself when I finally see the victim. I close my eyes for a second and take a deep breath in.

The vision of the body burns itself in my retinas as I take detailed shots of the victim. And since I can't do much until David or another coroner arrives, I take mental notes of what I see.

The flesh is purple and covered with blood, the sole of the attacker's shoe is imprinted on the flesh; whoever did this was in a lot of rage; I walk around the room and everything is upside down. I can see money and valuable objects in the open, which makes me think that it wasn't a robbery. I take prints, make pictures, do everything I can, making sure I'm not forgetting anything.

I have to focus on the evidence not to let go of the burning anger running through my veins at the moment. I know that this anger is partly misplaced and it could cloud my judgement. I go upstairs and look for evidence there as well.

"Coroner's here," Jim informs me.

"I'm coming," I shout back. I get downstairs, arriving at the door when David comes in.

"Hey Dave."

"Sara," he smiles to me with a light blush.

"She's over there, hope you ate something light," I warn him.

I follow David and kneel near the body. "COD?" I ask after a moment.

"I'd say broken neck, but the cause could be internal, so I'll know after autopsy," he states. "According to her liver temp, she's been dead for less then three hours."

"Okay, this is weird, there's water under her but there's no broken vase or any bottle," I point out.

David dips two fingers in the liquid and rubs them against his thumb. "Uh…" he works his jaw a few times but nothing comes out of his mouth.

"Dave?"

"I think it came from her…"

"Urine? No, it would smell…" I think aloud.

"No, I think it might be… amniotic fluid," he declares.

I feel a wave of nausea coming up my throat, I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose. I stand up and am about to go outside for a breather when something catches my eyes.

A photo frame, the picture inside has been torn in two. I have to crawl around to find the other piece of the picture and when I put the two pieces together I have a hard time to believe what I see.

I run out to Brass, adrenaline rushing into me. "Jim, we have our prime suspect," I announce. "Meet Elizabeth's boyfriend."

"I'll damned… psycho Joe," he mutters, referring to the guy who has been attacking women randomly for the past four months, he hadn't strike for a month and half, I guess he made it up for the lost time.

"Elizabeth…" something dawns on me. "Lisa… that's what he called all the other victims. If that's what he did to her…" I trail off.

Jim sighs and grabs his radio. "I'm giving the description of the bastard to everyone, scan the photo so we can give it around, who knows what we're dealing with now," Jim says sharply.

xxxxx

I spend my entire shift working on my evidences; being the first one who has brought back a body, I've had the results of my preliminary autopsy and the shift is not over yet. Elizabeth was indeed pregnant and I'm waiting for the DNA test to confirm the baby was Psycho Joe's –according to her closest friend she was devoted to Psycho Joe or Trevor from his real name but better be sure on that one if it's not Trevor's then I might have a motive; she had her neck broken, broken ribs two of which perforated her lungs and that's just a beginning. I asked for her medical record to see if violence was a constant denominator in Elizabeth's relationship.

The only advantage I have in this case is that I have samples to compare my findings tonight with, more nails for Trevor's box, not that I really feel sympathetic toward him at this point.

I hate the case, it's a domestic abuse case so it hits home, even if with time I've learnt to handle it, the fact is that I'm enraged right now, I'm constantly angry and tonight was just the little pressure that threatens to blow my control bottle cap off.

I'm in the locker room sitting in front of my locker, I want to hit it really bad, but I also know that if I do I won't be able to stop myself and chances are that I'll break down too. This is why I hate my current state of mind, I'm working with my heart on my sleeves and I'm not sure of how much more I can handle.

The door of the locker room opens and I turn my head just in time to see Greg. We stare at each other, I can see that he's hesitating as to what he should do, I could use a friend and he knows that; yet I can see the exact moment he chooses to ignore me. In normal circumstances he'd have come inside sit next to me, make me laugh or share my silence, offering me a support of some kind like only he knows how; but instead just stays away like he didn't care; frankly at this point I doubt that he does care, period.

It's been going on for months, he doesn't stand in the same room as me more then two minutes straight and when he does he barely speaks to me; he doesn't return my phone calls; at first I'd bother asking him for a drink and such but after a while I gave up, getting tired of hearing lame excuse after lame excuse and blank rain checks; and the only reason I don't really confront him about it is because I'm afraid of what will come out of our discussion.

"Sorry, I… I'll come back," he apologizes for entering the locker room, he has a last moment of hesitation before walking out.

I close my eye and breathe in deep, putting the evident decay of our relationship on a side of my mind. I'll have to deal with it eventually, but now isn't the time.

I have the sick feeling that my life is spiralling down and that I have yet to reach the worse part of it.

I'm startled by my pager going off, I sigh tiredly before standing up. I rub my face as if to put a professional mask back on before heading to Grissom's office.

I knock on the boss' door frame lightly and wait for him to look up before speaking. "You paged?"

"Yes, where are you at with your case?"

"Standstill, we're looking for the suspect. We have his picture going around, still waiting for some feedback on this front."

"Okay, there's another case and you're the only one available," he announces as he hands me a pink slip of paper. "Be careful and just so you know everybody is still out on the field so it might take a little while if you call for back up."

"Roger that, boss."

I welcome the distraction and literally dive into my next case. I should feel bad about the fact that I see another murder as a distraction from the previous one, but I guess that's one way to deal with our job. I mean if I look at every dead body with an emotional point of view, it'll be the death of me. My new scene is a stabbed victim at a library – whatever happens to reading and studying in such a place. Time goes by fast there is a lot of evidence to collect, the area to process is quite wide too considering that I'm on my own. All I know is that by the time I'm back to the lab it's daylight and I'm well into my second shift.

I just make a ten minutes break to eat something and have a soda before getting back to work. In times like these, when cases seem to rain, I usually like the energy going on, the constant buzz of the lab; shifts limits are thrown to the bin, everyone works around the clock, some go home others just use the 'beds' of the lab; I like it when everyone is part of the same team.

Since everything I need is being processed by lab techs I'm considering whether I should go home or just crash in one break room while massaging my temples when my phone suddenly comes to life.

"Sidle."

"My day as considerably picked up, for one I have one Trevor Horn cuffed and in custody, all wrapped for you and then you're about to say those magic words of yours," Jim's voice lets me know that he's smiling a bit.

"You totally rock, and I love you, Jim," I say immediately with a wide grin.

"There you go, right on cue kiddo," he chuckles. "I'll see you in fifteen minutes."

"You bet."

The phone call has washed off any trace of tiredness by my adrenaline spiking up again. I go to splash some water over my face and mentally prepare myself to face my suspect.

I arrive at the station ten minutes after Jim's phone call, I find him near an interrogation room waiting for me. He opens the door for the observation room for me, I walk in and wait for him to shut the door before giving him an update.

"I'm ready to bet that the sole of is shoes match the imprints on Elizabeth's face and body. I have his DNA because she scratched him and he spit on her. I can put him on the scene and get his confession for Elizabeth," I say confidently feeling like I had just eaten a lion.

"That's good," Jim nods.

"It gets better, his DNA matches for all the other victims. What do you got?"

"Okay, we picked him up at the hospital where he was beating crap out of a doctor."

"A woman?"

"No, a man. Doctor Readings, the guy doesn't know Trevor and couldn't explain why he was being attacked," he frowns.

"Readings…" I mutter as I'm racking my brain to make some connections.

"You know him?"

"I think he was Elizabeth's doctor… her gynaecologist to be specific, she had an appointment with him… four days ago," I remember the content of her medical record.

"We still need to find out why Trevor attacked him," Jim points out. "Sara, this guy won't get out of here free, that's a given."

"That may be, but I want him to answer for everything he did."

"I won't have it any other way either."

"Let's do it then."

I take a deep breath and make my way into the interrogation room. The man in front of me has a light frame, in fact it's hard to believe that he could do as much damaged as he did on Elizabeth, but those are just the appearances.

"Hi, Trevor, I'm Sara Sidle," the young man nods in response. "Somebody read you your rights?"

"Yeah… look that guy had it coming okay," he starts immediately.

"He did?"

"Yeah that'll teach him to fuck around with my girlfriend," he spits with rage. "There you have it, can you leave me alone now?"

"Not quite, I'm afraid."

"What the fuck do you want from me then?" he spits with irritation.

I take pictures out of the file resting in front of me and I place pictures of his victims on the table, lining them up, twelve in all.

"Do you recognize any of those women?"

"Not really, should I?" he looks at me with genuine confusion.

"You attacked each one of them Trevor," I tell him.

He looks at the pictures again and realisation seems to dawn on him. I swear I could see grief on his face for a moment.

"I didn't mean to…" he whispers after a long silence.

"You didn't mean to what?"

"Hurt them… it's just…Lisa and I had fights… for stupid things and she'd make mad… and I have… a bad temper, you know?" he shrugs. "When I'm angry, I hit things… I didn't want to hurt Lisa, I'd never do that… so I took walks to calm down… and then…" he trails off.

"Then what?" I keep him on track.

"I'd saw them… and they'd remind me of Lisa and since I was pissed… I'd lose it… after I'd get to my senses and realise what I did and I ran… I know I should have apologized and come to the cops, but… it freaked me out and I didn't want any trouble… that's all."

I take a moment to assimilate the information, to wrap my mind around the fact that this guy would beat his girlfriend's look alike just so he wouldn't hurt the real one. I think I have underestimated how twisted human mind could be.

"I'm sorry, really," he adds. And he looks sincere about it and yet the only fact that he treats those events as perfectly logical and normal gives me the creeps. "Are we done?"

This guy looks like the reliable kind, with a little temper; but then underneath the surface lies a person with no control whatsoever and no real grasp on his actions and their consequences. The only good thing I see in all that is the fact that I don't need a lot of persuasion to have his confession; and that is an infinitely small consolation.

"What changed?" I ask in return. He looks at me with confusion. "You said you would never hurt Lisa, yet you hit her yesterday, so what changed?" I elaborate.

His green eyes turn cold with rage, and all the sudden he's not that fragile looking kid, but a man with what it takes to kill someone.

"You've ever been in love?"

"Yes."

"I love Lisa… more than life itself. I'd give everything to make her happy; I can't breathe without her, that's how much I love her," he says with anger. "I told her… I told her that if she ever cheated on me… I'd… I wouldn't be responsible for my actions…"

He crashes his fists on the table with a growl. "She ripped my heart out and stomped on it… how could she? How? After everything I've done for her? She said she loved me as much as I loved her… and then she goes and fuck that doctor? I confronted her about it, she said it wasn't what I thought… like I was an idiot. She makes a fool out of me and she thinks I'm not going to know? I warned her! I fucking warned her… so yes I might have hit her… then I went to see that fucking bastard and beat the crap out of him for fucking me over."

I look at Brass who is just as jaded as I am, thinking about the result of Trevor's extreme jealousy and inaptitude to deal with his emotions.

Trevor snorts sadly and holds his forehead for a second, his eyes are watery and full of sorrow, remorse and shame. "I regret what I did you know… and as soon as I'm getting out of here, I'll get her flowers and chocolate and anything really… just to apologize and have a fresh start."

I'm baffled. The pictures of Lisa's body are flashing into my mind and there in front of me is that one who did it, thinking that things will go back to normal; you'd think he had only slapped her.

"Trevor you're not going anywhere," I announce firmly. I feel so much revulsion it hard for me to hold myself from shaking him senseless. It's like he was living in his head, and I am about to kick him into the reality. "That doctor you attacked… Lisa wasn't cheating on you with him."

"I know she was!" he protests.

"No, she was seeing him as a patient… because she was pregnant."

"Lisa's going to have my kid?"

"No Trevor, she's not."

"But you said…"

"The only thing Lisa is going to have right now is a funeral, because you beat her to death," I explain.

"What are you talking about? Lisa's fine… sure I roughed her up a little but she's fine," he replies angrily.

"Roughed her up a little?" I repeat with disbelief.

"I'm not proud of what I've done okay? I know it looks bad but… I love her… I'd never…"

"Trevor," I cut him off and take photos and show them to him. "Does that look like 'roughing her up a little', to you?" I ask edgily. "You stomped on her so hard that the sole of your shoe is visible on her flesh; you broke her jaw, her cheekbone, her left hand, her ribs, and her neck," I stress out every word. "So yeah, I think you telling me that you 'roughed her up a little' is a freaking _huge_ understatement."

"Oh my god… is she okay?" he asks with honest concern. "I didn't mean to…"

"She's dead Trevor, do you get that? You killed her."

"No…no…she hurt me and I was upset but I love her…" he shakes his head slowly understanding the situation.

"That might be love in your book, in mine it's anything but," I reply sharply.

I look at Brass and nod for him to take it from here. I hear him enunciating the charges against Trevor as he cuffs him; I look at Trevor who is still claiming that he loved Elizabeth and didn't mean to hurt her so bad, I watch them both leaving the room then my eyes fall on the pictures of the Elizabeth.

I should feel relieved because I did my job and that justice will be done, but I just feel angry; angry that things went so wrong just because someone was short tempered and jealous.

"It'd say good job kiddo, but I know it won't make it any better," Jim's voice breaks into my thoughts.

I sigh with a nod and start putting back the file together. "Love is supposed to be the most beautiful feeling, right? Or at least that what people say; yet I don't see rainbows, butterflies and pink cloud; no all I see is that 70 per cent of the people in our morgue have been put there out of love. So I'm asking, where's the beauty in all that?"

"I don't know, frankly I've stopped trying to figure people out. All I know is that we are all different and what makes sense for some won't for others."

"You got that right," I sigh.

"Come on kiddo, I'm taking you for a quick bite," he offers. "And no isn't allowed."

"In that case, I'll be happy to oblige."

We agree to meet again in a few once our reports on the case are done. I can't say I'm satisfied, but I did all I could, now I'll have to force myself to let go of all this and maybe eventually find some peace of mind again.

xxxxx

"Sweetie?"

"Sorry, what?" I blink at Catherine's waving hand in front of me.

"What is it?"

"What is what?" I frown.

"What's bothering you?"

My dying friendship with Greg, I can't take it anymore and yet I can't bring myself to confront him about it. As much as I hate it I'll have to talk to him though because this situation is eating at me.

"Nothing," I chuckle a bit. It's not the truth, that I know but I also know that Greg isn't a topic Cath ever wants to discuss, she explained me why, and I respect that.

"Are you saying that I'm boring then?" she teases me.

"Well…" I pretend to think about it.

"Oh you…" she shakes her head, straddles me and starts to tickle my body fiercely. I laugh and 'fight' back and kiss her to stop; my hands caress her body delicately, I like her curves and I like how I discover them each time I touch her.

She breaks the kiss and looks at me, during our little struggle I switched our position so I'm hovering her; she reaches out, push a bang of my hair behind my ear and caresses my cheek.

"I love you," she says with a soft tone and a grin.

I feel warmth invading me, and at the same time I feel like I was suffocating. I want to say those words back but they stay stuck on my throat. I decide that since I can't say what I feel I can show it, so I lean in and capture her lips. I hold her close to me because if I feel safe, I do feel like I could lose my grip and drown in despair and sorrow at the same time.

xxxxx

I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose. I've been working in the labs since I had paperwork and Grissom wouldn't send me on the field until I gave him all those report I still had.

I think unconsciously I staked reports so I wouldn't have to go on the field. I'm tired and it's one of those rare times when I enjoy the confinement of the lab, just dealing with the evidence, not what's surrounding them. My stomach makes a weird noise to alert me that it needs to be filled, I massage my neck before standing up. I decide to go out a bit to hunt for food, I think some fresh air will do me some good.

Once I have my vest and backpack, I walk the corridors and as I get closer to the main entrance of the building a familiar figure catches me eyes; a little worry sets in the pit of my stomach.

"Mister Sanders?" I call softly and the man in front of me turns around, a smile immediately gracing his features.

"Sara, _deilig_, what have I said?" his voice, always filled with warmth and laughter resounds in my ears like a long lost melody. I missed it, his voice, his paternal kindness and his affectionate pet name; and until now I hadn't realized how much. It's not just him though it's everything he represents… it's only him and at the same time it's his whole family.

Greg's father is a man with a wide frame, dark green eyes, pepper mint hair; he has a very calm and poised personality, I don't think I've ever seen him raised his voice even when he was angry – not that ever loses his temper; he's very understanding and as solid as a roc. He's good man and most of his qualities have rubbed off on Greg, he's the kind of person who keeps you grounded; he reminds me of Brass and Grissom on that aspect.

I chuckle with a blush. "Right, sorry, Alwin."

"Better," he smiles before taking me in his arms for a very soothing embrace. "It's been long time," he says once he has pulled away.

"It has, and it's my fault… work and…" Greg avoiding me, I add inwardly.

"You're not trying to be a stranger to us are you?" he teases me.

"No, I wouldn't dare," I assure him.

"Good," he pats my cheeks in a fatherly gesture.

"Is everything okay?" I ask with concern. "Is everyone alright?"

"Oh yes, don't worry. Everyone is okay, I just came to have lunch with my son."

I smile at his statement, my worries assuaged. It might seem strange for me to still have a good contact with him and all of Greg's family, but for me it's normal; I mean I built a relationship with them too, a relationship I care about.

"You look thinner than the last time I saw you," he states, scrutinizing me. "Are you taking care of yourself, _deilig?"_ he queries, his hand on the side of my shoulder.

"Well… I do my best…"

He just nods in answer, understanding that I'm not at my best but that I have no wish to talk about it. "You have to come for diner one of these days," he changes topic. "Everyone will be happy to see you."

"I'd love to. I miss everyone," I admit.

"Good."

"Besides I have to beat you at chess."

He laughs good-heartedly. "That will never happen, but you are welcome to try."

"Papa," Greg's voice calls our attention. He embraces his father briefly.

"Hello son, how are you?"

"I'm good, and ready to go."

"Oh Sara, will I see you at the party?" Alwin asks and I frown in response. "Adaliz's birthday," he adds mentioning his wife. "Gregorus," he turns to his son and speaks this time in Norwegian. I miss some words but I know that Greg says that he forgot to tell me about it, which I doubt he did considering that he's been actively avoiding me for the past three months; and if Greg's faltering gaze is of any indication, it confirms my suspicions. Alwin turns to me, "I'm the eldest and he's the one with no memory," he jokes and I chortle. "Anyway, Addy wants a party and you are invited of course. I'll call you to give you the details and I hope you'll be there."

"I'll do my best," I reply, forcing a smile on my lips, still a bit taken aback by the situation with Greg. Maybe it's his way to tell me to step back away from his family; and that's a pain I never felt prepared for.

"Excellent," Alwin grins. He hugs me one more time and whispers a few words in his mother tongue; words of support and affection, like a father to his daughter. Considering the circumstance it gets to me even more than usual, I snort with a smile, trying to hold back the threatening tears coming to my eyes. "Take care,_ deilig,_" he finishes, pats my cheek one more time before winking at me. Then he turns around and starts walking away.

Greg stays next to me awkwardly and mumbles his words "See you around," he says then goes to join his father.

I definitely need to clear the air between Greg and I, whatever it is I'll get to the bottom of it.

xxxxx

I'm standing in front of Greg's door and I feel like I was going to enter a gun fight with a water pistol; knowing that I need to have this conversation with Greg for my own sanity doesn't make it any easier. I seal my fate with knocks on the heavy wood.

Greg is surprised to see me. Only now do I notice that he is in quite a pitiful state, the last time I saw him like that was when things went downhill between us. We stare at each other and he takes a moment to decide whether to send me packing or letting me in. He moves aside eventually and I come in.

I decide to stay stand in his living room, he faces me, never really meeting my eyes. I remember Adam's words, there could be so many reasons to explain why our relationship had been falling a bit apart.

"How are you?"

"Alright," he shrugs.

"You've been… taking distance from me and…I was wondering is you had problem to deal with or… if something was bothering you."

"Things are alright," he says with as much eloquence.

I chuckle nervously. "That's what I feared," I look away for a moment before looking at him again. "I'm the problem then…" I snort. I can feel that he's about to contest or say that I'm not but I go on. "You lied to your father yesterday, saying you forgot to invite me," I point out and he looks surprised. "I learnt a few things with your help remember?"

"I didn't forget… it's just that… things have changed and I thought… you wouldn't be interested."

"Rus… you know I love your family and I love spending time with them… you could have asked…" I hold my breath when I voice out my fear. "Unless of course… you don't want me to have contact with them anymore…"

"Why would I want that? Don't be silly," he says softly.

"I don't know… but… look, if I did or said something wrong and hurt you in anyway, please accept my apology," I start. "I just… I don't understand this change between us and I'm sorry I let it go on for so long but… I've been afraid that…" I trail off and take a moment to gather my thoughts, ignoring the growing pain in my chest as my insecurities and fears are bubbling up to the surface.

"I know that I screwed up more than once between us and that it's my fault if things started to go wrong…"

"Sar…"

"It is Greg, when you think about it…" I reaffirm without animosity "Anyway… just…I can't lose you… I can't lose what we have… it means too much for me…" I look away and take a deep breath. "And to have you pulling away from me like you do… it's unbearable because I feel like you didn't want anything to do with me anymore… I don't think I can… I don't think I'll survive if you take everything we have… had… if you take all this away… but I'm begging you, I'm _begging_ you, please don't take everything away from me…" tears spill from my eyes against my will and I wipe them off immediately.

"I don't get it, you're the one who requested this… I didn't want things to change… I was very fine with the way they were…" he starts with a soft voice.

"I understand that you and I being friends meant that maybe we had to distance each other from what we had as a couple, so we wouldn't give the wrong impression… I got so used to be very closed to you that I didn't realize that I was probably holding you back… I mean, I said I wouldn't stand in your way, yet maybe that's what I was doing by being so… intimate with you… yet it kills me you know, not to spend time with you like we used to, not to be able to be close… but you're in a new relationship, you need to focus on that and I get it," he marks a pause.

"You could have told me all that yourself… but that's not the point… the point is that I want you to be happy and I never want to be the one to screw things up for you… you needed the distance I gave it to you now if you feel ready to slowly put things back in place then… I'd be more than happy about it," he finishes with a shy grin.

I'm not relieved by his answer, I should because it means we are good but something is bothering me in what he just said. I don't know what it is but there's this nagging feeling that something is still wrong in this picture.

"I miss you," he confesses. "I miss hanging out," he chuckles softly.

"Did we somehow have a conversation I forgot about?" I frown.

"I'm not sure to follow…"

"You're saying that I wanted this, I never said so Greg… I never… all I know is that one day things were fine and then without any explanation everything just… froze… and I've been torturing myself with the many reasons why and now…" my breath is short I feel like suffocating suddenly; my chest hurt like someone was putting a heavy weight on it.

I finally have it, I have that click in my head; it's a switch that is flipped to turn on a light bulb on all those things I've convinced myself weren't there. All those small details I have conveniently ignored so as to not jeopardize everything, so I could pretend that everything was fine. Adam has unintentionally brushed that switch during out last session but I had ignored the flicker of light.

"I could have told you myself…" I mutter. "What does that mean?" my anguish turns into something raw and violent which is now creeping into my vein. Was I a puppet on strings all this time?

"I uh… assumed that it was… what you meant… by your distance…" Greg's voice is uncertain, I might be an opened book for him but it goes both ways, and right now I know he's not telling the truth; he only now realized that he had said too much without meaning to and now he's trying to back-pedal but that's too late. I don't need him to say anything because I already know the answer, even though I still refuse to believe it.

My heart hitches before making its way up my throat. "She came to you, didn't she?" I query with a wavering voice. "Catherine," I elaborate. "She came to talk to you…"

He shakes his head in denial but the words won't pass his lips because they are lies and we both know it. "Don't lie to me now," I warn him through my teeth.

He closes his eyes with a sigh, berating himself for his treacherous words. "Sar… it wasn't…"

"Answer me for… fuck sake!" I snap, my anger starts to burst out and I raise my hand and contract it slowly to make a fist, as if to hold my temper.

"Fine, yes, she did," he concedes reluctantly. "But it's not as bad as it sounds… okay? Please, calm down," he speaks in a soft tone

I snort bitterly and take a step away from him, I start to pace furiously but I'm using so little space that it's as if I was making circles around myself.

"Not as bad as it sounds, uh?" I chuckle humourlessly. "Sounds to me that my girlfriend came to ask you to stay the hell away from me, making it sound like _I_ was the one asking and that you," I point my finger at him, my voice sharpening at each word. "You, were stupid enough to follow through blindly!" I spit. "But it's not as bad as it sounds right?"

"It wasn't like that…" he tries again.

"Well enlighten me then, please," I demand edgily.

"Yes, she did make me understand that I needed to stay away from you… and… yes I followed through, I swallowed my shattered ego, because I love you and you deserve to be happy, thinking that if that's what you needed to be happy then I'll oblige, just because I care… but it hurt so much I didn't want to think about it any further…"

"And it never occurred to you to come to me… you're fucking unbelievable," I shake my head with despise. "How could you? How?" I corner him. "Since when do I need anyone to fight my battles? How could you possibly think that I wouldn't come to you if I had any issues regarding our relationship?"

"I was hurt, okay!" he snaps keeping his voice at an even level. I frown not understanding him. He sighs and speaks quietly again. "I was so hurt and mad at you for not having the guts to come and tell me those things… mad that after everything I wasn't even worth a face to face conversation… to have someone making me understand that basically I didn't have my place by your sides…" he passes a hand on his hair.

"Greg," I call him, dumbfound. This doesn't make any sense. "_How_ do you want me to have a face to face conversation with you about something I never said, hell, about things I never even thought?" I say angrily, like somehow my voice could hammer my words into his skull.

"I didn't know that then!" he protests.

"You should have! You know me better than this, damn it! You know me better than anyone! And for you to think that I could wash off ten years of being your friend, during three of which I was your lover; that I could wash it off after _all_ we've been through together, and doing it through someone else on top of that, _like I didn't even care_, is like having you beat to the ground, spit in my face and laugh about it!"

Tears spill out of my eyes in rage and pain. I heave to catch my breath, so much that my sobs come out as hiccups.

"You're right… I should have known better… come to you… anything…" he whispers with resignation. "Moon, I…" the nickname is what set fire to my ire again.

"Don't you call me like that!" I forbid him with a steel laced voice, feeling on the verge of being physically violent with him. There's nothing worse than people you love and care about hurting you to only sweet talk to you. It's adding insult to injury.

I use my palms to erase my tears, but I'm still having a hard time to breathe for there's a hole of betrayal in my chest where my heart used to be and that hole is sucking the life out of me, letting poisonous feeling seeping through me just not to leave anything untouched and good.

"How could you treat me like that? Like some pet… like I can't decide for myself what I can or can't handle? How could you, you of all people, do something like that?"

"I'm sorry," he says with emotion. "I've been stupid, and I'm sorry for hurting you, for not trying to talk to you to find a way to make the situation better for everyone… I was hurt and I… gave up… instead of doing what I should have done… I've been really stupid… but I honestly thought that u was doing the right thing…"

He takes a step toward me but I back away. "Stay away from me…" my tone is low and threatening. I'm breathing like a bull ready to charge.

"Sar… I'm really sorry about those past three months," he tries to step closer to me again.

"Hurt and mad are understatements right now to describe how I feel… and I honestly don't know what I could do if you came any closer," my fists are tightly balled and he sees that much.

My anger takes over and all I know is that I need to get away from this and I need time to put order in my thoughts. "You know what?" I ask rhetorically. "We might as well keep the new distance between us… we're getting good at it," I tell him bitterly before walking past him, ignoring the pain in his eyes reflecting my own; I go to the door and slam it shut behind me as I leave.

I wish I had seen that one coming… or rather that I had acknowledged my suspicions earlier rather than letting it go on dragging me down. Once again I did screw things up even though I was just a pawn in all this.

xxxxx

I've been pacing in my apartment throwing everything on the floor out of rage. I am mad, mad at Greg and I don't even want to think about Catherine's part in it all because then I know I'll lose my footing and do something I'll regret. I'm even mad at Adam, because he's been pushing me in a corner almost forcing me to reach my breaking point.

It doesn't matter how much things I destroy or put upside down, the fire raging in my chest doesn't diminish, on the contrary I think it grows. I punch and kick things and I somehow I want more, I decide to go for a drive not to take the next step in my usual emotional pattern.

I came back in the battlefield that is now my apartment, just to have time to shower and change clothes then I go to work, my fury is algid, but it's unstable for I know that anything can set me off now.

I arrive early at the lab and lucky me there's already a case in when I ask Grissom if he needs my assistance. I know that right now it's all about keeping my mind focused on everything but what's bothering me. I get to work as soon as I arrive on my scene, I take my times to analyze every single detail, double checking everything, not being in any hurry to be back at the lab.

The only minus point of my shift so far is that I had a little accident, I fell on something sharp, as a result I cut my right hand and forearm, the cuts aren't deep enough to need stitches but they do hurt a bit; the bright side of it is that I haven't contaminated the scene and EMTs were on the scene so I've been taken care off quickly to keep working.

When I come back to the lab everyone is either still on the field or engross with something in different labs. I avoid the break room, really not feeling social today and go in my usual lab. My quiet shift is disturbed about an hour later though when Greg enters my lab and closes the door behind him.

Anger immediately fires in me but I make an effort not to explodes, we are at work after all and whatever the situation between us is at the moment we still need to work together.

"What do you want?" I ask with a low tone, returning my gaze on my computer.

"What happened?" his voice is serious and firm, he seldom use that tone but when he does it means that he won't go until he has the answers he's looking for. I don't need him to elaborate I know he's referring to my bandage.

"I had a small accident."

"Yeah?"

You'd think that considering his position right now he'd know better than to put my words in doubt and push me in a corner, but hey, I also thought he'd know better than to act like he did so I guess I shouldn't be surprised. I would have been somewhat touched by his concern in any other circumstances, but right now it just slices thinly the little restrain and patience I have for him.

"Yes, Gregorus," I reply sharply. "It is what happened, I fell at the scene on something sharp, the end," I elaborate. "Now, if you don't have anything work related to say, get the fuck out," I intimate calmly. "Please," I add with a fake smile.

He stares at me a moment actually gauging the veracity of my answer, pissing me off even more, and then he leaves.

Greg knows me as much as my brothers and being his lover achieved to unravel every part of me. He knows the signs, he knows about my bad habits. I won't lie I've been feeling that cold and intoxicating tingling growing inside me, that fever for the pain, that yearning for release. Yet, I've done everything not to give into it. I'll admit though that hurting myself by accident did make me dizzy and the temptation is now stronger, but I'm still fighting off that need, succeeding… for the moment.

I pass a hand over my face and focus on my computer again, happily numbing myself with work.

When I get home I check my voice machine, as soon as Catherine's voice fills the room I press the erase button not even bothering to hear any of her words. As childish as that may be, just thinking about her makes me boil inwardly. I will deal with her once she's back, she had to go out of town for a trial; considering the turn of event it comes at a good moment.

I need to be clear headed to talk to her, right now I'm still running on anger and I need all the distance I can from her, even though it's just ignoring her call and messages.

I look around and see the mess I've made yesterday, it makes me think about what happened before that, which makes my anger rise up again; I said to Adam that I felt angry all the time and now, I'm getting into a mindset that is really dark and spiteful.

I look at my banded forearm and I feel a burning, like a thirst that only one thing can quench; but then again if I take that path it's a one way ticket to my personal hell. I need to get out of here as soon as possible which is why I decide to take a shower and leave as soon as possible.

xxxxx

"Sara, can I see you in my office?" Grissom asks rhetorically.

"Sure, do you mind if I finish this first?" I reply barely raising my nose from my microscope.

"Go ahead, just come by when you're done," he instructs before walking away. I immediately focus again on what I was doing when he arrived.

Work is the only healthy issues I've found, it's not the best but it's effective for now, and frankly at this point anything is good to help me stay somewhat grounded.

I finish taking a note; put things where they belong and try to evaluate what is left for me to do. I froze for a second when a fragrance reaches my nostrils, I sigh and then continue to do my things.

"Yes?" I demand without looking toward the door.

"Hey," she says with a small grin.

"Hey," I reply flatly then look at my evidence on the table; I grab my laptop and type on it. I'm cold and I know it, but it either that either exploding in anger. I hear the door being closed, but I know Catherine stayed in. I take a deep breath and look at her.

"Okay… I know it's neither the place nor time but… I've barely seen you since I came back four days ago, I've called you when I was away; I called you ever since I'm in Vegas, you're not at your place when I come around… you don't return any of my calls… I'm starting to get the impression that you're avoiding me and…"

"It's not an impression," I cut her short. I close my laptop and stand up, gathering the different part of the file in front of me

"Oh…" she snorts a bit hurt. "May I know what I did to deserve such a treatment?" she asks with a hint of irritation.

"You mean besides screwing my relationship with my best friend?" I look at her with a frown. She blinks a bit taken aback. "I don't know, you tell me Cath, is there anything else I should know?"

I walk toward the door, when I'm at her level she speaks again. "Sar… babe, it's not…"

"Not what I think, right?" I finish. I purse my lips to keep my self control. "Did you go see Greg and ask him to keep his distance from me, supposedly on my behalf?" she looks at me and I couldn't say if she's ashamed or just uncomfortable because she's been caught. "Yes or no Catherine?" I press her, her eyes are shinning a bit with pain.

"Yes…" she finally whispers.

I shake my head "Then it's exactly what I think, no matter what terms you used to make it happen and no matter what you call it," I declare. "You two are something, thinking that I wouldn't connect the dots eventually? Yes, because in spite of Greg covering for you… I figured it out," I add. I can see her about to speak again but I don't give her a chance. "Don't bother," I tell her before exiting the lab.

xxxxx

"Greg, Sara, suspicious circumstances; Catherine, 419; Nick and Warrick, paperwork. Be careful, be thorough. Rock on kids!" Grissom finishes handing out assignment his usual way.

I stand up and go to the locker room to get ready. This is going to bed a long night. Once I'm ready I go straight to my car and wait for Greg. At the very least we are in an understanding, he gives me space and time, which is all I need. It's been a week and a half since everything went down the drain and I think we're both aware that I'll need quite some time on my own, I'll come to him when I'm ready to discuss things further.

We drive silently, he stares are his window and I focus on the road.

"I know things aren't at their best between us but… my father wants to know if you thought about my mom's birthday party. He'd really like to have you, they all do," I states still looking at the scenery.

"I don't know," I reply eyes glued on the traffic light on my right, as if staring at it could make it turn green somehow.

"We don't have to spend time together there…" he adds. "I mean… if you want to come I'll make sure you're comfortable," I can see him looking at me with my peripheral vision.

I don't really want to spend time with him, not at the moment any how, though I'll admit that being surrounded by his finally would be a nice distraction. "Look, I'll… think about it, okay?" my eyes don't leave the road when I talk to him.

"Okay," he replies with a small sigh. "Just so…"

I have barely the time to register the sound of metal being brutally crushed before seeing everything upside down and losing the notion of gravity.

I open my eyes with difficulty, my whole body hurts badly, like shards of glasses were coming out of my skin and I'm dizzy. I can taste the iron flavour of blood and I smell it all around; my face is burning badly, I see the airbag deployed now understanding why I feel like I just kissed a wall and why I'm disoriented. I see the windshield is almost completely broken, I hear a constant whistle like something hot had been put in cold water; my ears are ringing and everything seems distant and think something is trying to get out of my skull. I try to move but something hits me, the gravity is all wrong, I'm upside down.

I close my eyes again slowly realising what's going on. I was driving, light was green, Greg talked to me, I never left the road from the eyes… Greg… the noise came from his side.

My eyes shoot open and I turn my head to my right; my neck is stiff so the movement hurts a bit. I put my pain aside when I see an unconscious and blood covered Greg. Panic immediately grips me. "Greg," I call him urgently. "Greg…" I reach out a hand and shake him a little, but to no avail. "Rus… come on… be okay…" I plead. I put my fingers on his jugular and I froze when I don't feel anything.

No, no, no, no… please not this…

I force myself to calm down at once, adrenaline is making my hands shaky and panic is not helping me. I close my eyes and focus all my attention on the tip of my fingers and I stay still a few seconds just long enough to be sure that it's not my pulse I'm feeling but his. I breathe out a bit.

I think hard and fast, I reach out for the radio, struggling to find the receiver. I fumble with the buttons hoping that it's still working. I speak as soon as I hear static sound "Dispatch… this is Sara Sidle… unit Charlie Tango forty two, do you copy?" I start with a husky voice and wait for an answer. "Dispatch…"

"_This is dispatch, what's your situation Charlie Tango?_" a male voice comes from the radio.

I breathe in relief and pursue. "We've been involved in a car collision, possibly multiple vehicles… we need immediate assistance, my partner is severely hurt and…"

Words are ripped from my mouth when I feel a violent shock, hear screeching tires as everything spins like the car had turned into a top; all I can make out of the windshield is one big stain of colours, until the car loses momentum and it finally comes to a stop.

I feel immensely sick, being upside down and having my heart racing only amplifies the feeling.

"_Delta Charlie, this is dispatch, what just happened?_" I hear a tiny voice but can't find the radio. "_Delta Charlie forty two, do you copy? I repeat do you copy?_"

I finally find the device thanks to the thread. "I think another car just ran into us."

"_Units have been sent to your location, can you asses the damages?_"

"Not really, our car is upside down and…" I continue.

"Help me!" the shout comes from the panicked voice of a woman.

"Someone is screaming outside…" I inform the dispatch. "Look, just hurry with the help please," I beg.

"Sar…" I turn to the faint voice next to me.

"Rus, can you tell me where you're hurt?" I ask urgently. "Can you move?"

"I can't feel… anything…" he adds weakly. I hold my panic back, we need to exit the car.

"We're going to get out of here… I'm going to try to get out then I'll help you okay? Just hang on tight, I called in and they sent help."

I can see a subtle movement, indicating that he passed out, and it's like an electroshock, because I get into action. I can't make any thoughts seat still in my mind, and I just wish to shut up the one telling me that Greg might already be gone; or the one telling me that the seat next to the driver is always called the seat of the dead.

I move my seat, tap on the back door window, I scream and I wiggle until I get an opening; I couldn't say how much time as passed, all I know is that I'm crawling on glass, my whole body is screaming in pain; the light, the air everything seems too much, too raw, too painful. I half walk, half crawl to the other side of the car, not paying attention to my surroundings, I get down again and reach out for Greg through his broken window.

"Rus… come on…" I lightly tap on his face. He comes to again, disoriented.

"Hurt…"

"I know," I sigh in relief with tears streaming down my cheeks. "You stay with me… I stayed with you, don't you dare, leaving now…" I growl firmly.

"Help me… please! My son!" the scared cry echoes again.

"I want to see…" Greg starts but trails off as he seems to lose consciousness again.

"Stay with me!" I bark. "You promised, you'd never let me down…you promised," I try to steady myself. "Help is on its way, I want you to hold on…I need you to hold on…"

"Please! Help me!"

I close my eyes, but I just can't block the voice. "I'll be right back, don't you go… Rus, I'm begging you to stay with me… try not to fall asleep. I'll be right back," I instruct.

I stand up with difficulties and for the first time I take in the scene. There are at least five cars looking crushed or bumped, one his against a lamp post, another one is on its side, one has the front crushed like a tin can, others just have smoke coming off their hoods.

Another scream gets me out of my torpor. I look in the direction of the sound, toward the car which is thrown on its side. I don't have time to take a step when I notice the blessed sound of sirens ringing in my ears; people in uniforms seem to literally materialize themselves on the scene, attending every car.

I lie down again, reaching for Greg. "They're here, you're getting out of there soon," I have to twist a bit in order to get one of his hands but when I do I hold on for dear life, the only reassuring thought that I feel a gentle squeeze back.

Everything seems to go in a slow motion from that point on; I just know that I keep talking to Greg, until a medic asks me to step away. They think hard and it takes them some time to actually figure a way to get him out, but then they are stuck because they can't get in the car to operate. I'm still running on adrenaline, also I inform them that I got out, therefore I can get back in, and that's what I do.

When I get out of the car for the second time, Greg is on a gurney, barely conscious and covered with what seems to be more blood than earlier. Only when I see Greg being put into an ambulance does my body decide to have a little break from the unbearable sensations going through it, the floor opens under my feet and everything goes black.

xxxxx

I'm at Greg's bedside; he's unconscious, and under the circumstances he got very lucky. Of course, his right arm and should are broken; he has a concussion, two broken ribs, and various cuts and bruises, his face is swollen and purple, stitches are visible; no spine injuries, which were my greatest fear, the doctor explained that due to the immense pain his body self anesthetised, blocking the pain away, apparently it's part of the survival instinct; honestly since he took the whole bluntness of the shock, it could have been much worst.

My injuries are mild compared to him, bruised ribs, mild concussion, cuts, bruises and basically more fright than anything else. I had to stay at the hospital to get checked all day yesterday, but I'm free to go now. The doctors are optimistic about Greg's recovery, but I won't feel relieved until I actually speak to him.

His family told me that he came to a little before going under again today, yet I've insisted to spend some time with him, taking turns with everybody. I feel responsible, even though now I know that we've been hit by a driver under influence.

I reach for Greg's hand and patiently wait; whishing that somehow I could send him my energy; focusing on his heartbeat to conjure the images of him unconscious, covered with blood, stuck in an upside down car.

xxxxx

It took four days but eventually Greg woke up. I've been staying with his family since I've been released from the hospital and for the first time for months I've felt a bit of peace.

I haven't been able to sleep a wink, visions of Greg injured haunts me, more than anything I have a nightmare and when I take his pulse, it's not there, and it stays that way.

"Hey," a whisper takes me out of my thoughts. I look up and see Greg one of his eyes swollen while the other is half closed.

"Hey slacker," I smile, relief overwhelm me but I hold back my tears. I just reach out for his hand, the light squeeze I feel from him assures me that I'm not dreaming.

"So… objectively speaking… exactly how uglier than you do I look?" he asks with a panting voice.

I chuckle. "Gee thanks Rus… ever the sweet talker aren't you?"

"That ugly, uh?"

"You have no idea," I confirm. "Well no actually it's worse."

This time he laughs a bit. "Ouch, no, okay, laughing is bad," he winces. I can see him trying to fight sleep off again.

"You need rest so I won't be long," I call for his attention again. My voice is soft when I speak. "I think what happened… was a reminder that you can lose the one you love in a blink of an eye… funny I forgot that for a moment," I snort humourlessly before shaking my head. "Anyway… it helped me put things in perspective. Also… I forgive you for what happened during those last months and your lack of judgment."

"Sar…not like this…" he tries to dismiss me, not wanting to take advantage of the situation.

"Don't get me wrong, the issue is still there and once your brain will be up to it we'll need to work it out… all I'm saying is that… uh…" I close my eyes and look for my words. "I'd rather spend my energy trying to fix things between us than wasting it being mad at you for days on end."

He doesn't say anything for a moment. "Forgiven, but not forgotten. It's fine by me," he grins a bit, but since he's in pain it comes out as a wince.

"Good," I smile, passing a hand on my cheek to erase the birthing tears. "I'm going to let you rest, besides, you're family wants to see you too."

"Okay."

I stand up, I'm about to move away when I feel a light squeeze on my hand. I look at him encouragingly. "Thanks for… making me stay…" he says with emotion. I smile at him with affection and he smiles back – or at least tries. "You got the smile anyway."

I blink and lean in to delicately kiss his forehead. "I'll come back, you take care now."

"I will."

And on those words I walk out of his room, I exchange a few words with the members of his family who are outside, then I leave for there's someone else I need to talk to.

xxxxx

I pass a hand over my hair to smooth it a bit, not that it would make me look any better, I know my face didn't really appreciate to kiss the airbag among other things. I take a deep breath and knock on the door in front of me. It's opened after barely a few seconds.

"Hey," Catherine greets me with obvious relief. We haven't seen each other since before the accident, we haven't spoken either, not that there have been many occasions for that.

She has a second of hesitation before enveloping me in a hug. I can't help the wince escaping my lips. She lets go immediately and steps away from me.

"Sorry… my body is still very sore," I explain.

She opens the door wider to invite me inside her house and waits for me to walk in before closing and locking the door behind us.

"I came to see you at the hospital, but you were sleeping deeply," she says as if she felt the need to justify herself. "I'd have stayed but I had to take care of Linds. I came back but you were passing tests and then by the time I got there again you were gone," she continues. "I've come by your place but you were never there."

"Yeah… I… stayed with Greg's family."

"Oh," she nods. "How is he?"

"Relatively good, considering."

"I was… very scared," she confesses after a long silence.

"So was I…" I admit. "But it gave me a lot to think about…and I want us to talk about our issues, and try to work it all out. Each moment with you are precious and I don't want to waste them away just because I'm angry or too stubborn to talk things through," I announce.

She reaches out tentatively for my hand, guides us to the living room, then we both sit down on the couch, facing each other. I'm not a big fan of long conversation involving feelings, but like I said to Greg, the accident helped me put things in perspective. Catherine and I need to have the talk if we want to move on; I know I do want us to move on."

"Let's talk," she states.

I take a deep breath to calm my nerves, I guess now is the time to lay it all bare.

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**Alrighty, the next chapter**** will be the last for this story. But like I said, there's a sequel in the oven.**

**Thanks for reading.**


	41. Chapter 41

**Hi everyone, first and foremost, thank you for your reviews they're always very appreciated. **

**Now, I know that I've taken time to post this chapter, I'm sorry, but is has been difficult to write. Anyway, it's long to compensate for the delay.**

**Enjoy,**

**So ;)**

**Ps: **Immi**, thanks for guiding me through the maze of idea and helping me when Mojo wasn't around ;) **

* * *

**Chapter 41**

_**Catherine's POV**_

I'm watching Sara. She is still holding my hand as we are both sitting on the couch. I wait for her to speak, I have things to say but I let her be the one to start this conversation because she's the one who has been cutting all communication between us.

Our relationship has hit a rough patch, to put it mildly. A few months ago I decided to take care of what was bothering me. I had come to the conclusion that the knot of my problems with Sara was Greg; therefore I went to have a chat with him, so he'd understand that purposefully or not he was inferring in my relationship with Sara.

Sara got pissed to say the least when she found out, not even giving me a chance to explain myself, give my point of view of the story. She gave me the cold shoulder, which hurt me and made me angry.

Five days ago there was a car accident and until the very last moment I wasn't aware that she had been involved in it. Actually none of us did – except Sara and Greg of course, we just had the call for an emergency and every team in the area rushed there, I think I almost passed out when I recognized Sara's car… or at least what was left of it. I dropped off the case and went to the hospital to make sure she was okay, that's actually the only time I saw her, when she was unconscious from all the pain killers she had taken.

And until a few minutes ago, I had convinced myself that even under such circumstances she didn't want me around. Yes, she did call and left a message on my machine saying that she was alright and that she hoped I was okay, in about that many words. It turns out that she stayed at Greg's family… so I suppose that's one way to say that she didn't want me around, once more I'm kept at bay, and I know it's not how our relationship should work. I should be the first one she turns to when she's having a hard time and I think almost dying in a car accident qualifies as such a time.

I've stayed awake all those days, trying to shy away from the truth. The truth is that our relationship isn't working; it's just falling apart, disintegrating pieces of my heart in the process. I've always been aware of the fact that I was more involved in our relationship on an emotional level, only now I'm realizing or rather I can no longer fool myself into thinking that Sara will join my wavelength at some point.

"I'm sorry for being harsh with you the last time we spoke," Sara says calmly.

She wasn't harsh, that's an understatement; she lashed at me, blowing things out of proportion, and that hurt deeply.

"It hurt."

"I know…I was…" she trails off. "I don't think you can fathom how angry I was to find out that you went to Greg to ask him to stay away from me," her voice is even but the irritation is palpable. She takes a deep breath to calm down, and squeezes my hand a little bit. "It can't work like this… when you have a problem you take it with me, you don't handle things like that…" she says quietly.

"I did tell you about it… I did make it clear that your relationship with Greg made me insecure…" I point out, my emotions already weakening my voice. "But you just… you wouldn't understand… I just asked him to give us a chance to be… I just wanted us to have a chance… and it's like I was the only one."

"That still didn't give you the right to do what you did," she says softly.

I stand up and go silently to the kitchen; I pour myself a glass of water and drain it in one go. I'm always the one to be depicted as the bad person, like right now, she doesn't say it but she's clearly thinking that I'm the bad guy in the story. Even if she doesn't like my choice, I did it with _our_ interest in mind.

Sara stood up as well and is now looking at me with confusion. Any other day I'd find that endearing on her, but today I find it irritating; because right now it's just another proof that she's not in this relationship with me.

"Sometimes I wonder if you actually want to be with me," I confess.

"Why would you think something like that?" her brow furrows even more. "I wouldn't be here if I didn't want to be with you."

"Most of the time it's like that you were fighting against _us _rather than with me. I mean…you're not really in it," I shrug.

"What do you mean, I'm not _in_ it?"

"I mean just that Sara; it's like I was the only one to fight to make this relationship work. You're not…"

"I'm not what?" she encourages me. "Just tell me Cath, whatever it is I'm ready to work on it."

"You… you don't talk to me, ever."

"I do talk to you…" she affirms.

"No you don't. Every time I ask you a question, getting an answer from you is like pulling a teeth out. And that's the proof that you don't trust me," I reason.

"I trust you, Cath," she protests but her voice is still calm and soft.

"Really?" I ask with a frown. She looks at me with confusion, like I was making things up. I sigh. "Every time something meaningful happens I'm never kept in the loop… I'm just the afterthought," I illustrate my point. "You always turn to Greg first. If I ask you what's going on, you don't tell me anything but he doesn't have to ask and you confide in him," I snort bitterly. "Notice how he's the knot of every issue we have…"

"I don't have any issues involving Greg," she states her expression is grave now. "So you thought that what? That it'd be okay for you to ask him to stay away?" she shrugs.

"Yes," I confirm. "I went to see him and told him that he was a good boy, but that he had to stay away, so you and I could focus on being an 'us', with me. He's not with you anymore and he should understand that," irritation creeps into my voice, she refuses to understand my point, like it didn't matter anyway. "Forgive me for wanting us to build something," I add in a whisper.

"We can't build anything if you don't trust me and destroy what matters to me," she states with hurt in her voice.

"See that's my problem right there, whatever you're having with Greg matters to you more than what you're having with me… don't you see anything wrong with this picture?" I narrow my eyes at her.

"Greg is my best friend, of course my relationship with him matters …"

"Oh come off it!" I cut her off harshly. She looks at me with confusion which angers me, because I'm tired of her willingly denying the facts. "He's not _just_ your best friend Sara," I continue. "He's your _ex-lover_! And for you to act like it wasn't the case pisses me off…" I look away and try to temper myself.

She always makes it difficult. I know she's not good at being intimate and opening up, she has issues, but who doesn't? I have issues too, I don't like being vulnerable and open anymore than she does; but the difference is that unlike her I do try because I think we are worth the risk.

"You don't let go of him… and I feel that it's your way to tell me that I'll never be enough, that whatever I give you it'll never be enough; that you'll always need him and what you two had. It's unfair, because I shouldn't be put in his shadow, yet I am," I look upward, forbidding myself from crying. I take a deep breath to compose myself.

"Cath… Greg and I are just friends now. I can't change the fact that we've been lovers, but it's over and now I'm with you."

"But you're not really in it with me," I keep on. "I can see that we're not as intimate as you were with Greg, we don't have the same complicity…and…"

"Stop, you can't compare things like that," she says softly. "Greg and I were intimate long before becoming lovers. I mean, he and I have been friends for close to ten years now. You and I had to struggle to have a healthy relationship, then a friendship and then what we have now. It'll never be like Greg and I, and I don't want it to be, it'll be ours and it'll take time, but we're doing fine so far," she speaks with an even and soothing voice.

"You don't trust me…" I'm losing the battle with my emotions.

"I do trust you, Cath, why do you think otherwise?"

"You don't talk to me, you don't confide in me."

"I do talk to you…" she protests.

"Not about what matters to you! You've been moody for months and every time I tried to make you talk about it you've dismissed me."

She sighs with exasperation. "The reason I've been moody is because my best friend was treating me like a stranger for no reason; but you've made it clear that you never wanted to have any discussion involving Greg so I've respected that… I want to talk to you Cath but sometime you don't want to listen."

"Right, turn this thing around like it's my fault now," I snort angrily.

"In this case it is!" she replies hotly. She takes a deep breath not to lose her temper. "You went to Greg behind my back and basically sabotage our friendship…there's nothing that gives you that right… you should never do something like that, never," she says firmly. "I… I'm not some…" she trails off. "I'm a person, an adult at that, so don't do this… don't take liberties like that… that's all I'm saying. That was a bad judgment call," she says with an even voice.

"You didn't leave me any choice!" I explode. I don't know what pisses me off more, her condescending 'I'm Sara Sidle and I never do anything wrong' attitude or the fact that she's not listening nor trying to understand what I'm telling her.

"You never take anything I say seriously; I've told you many times before that I was uncomfortable with your relationship with Greg. Yet, every time you've just dismissed it as something that will pass… and I have to watch you being closer to him than you are to me, being constantly reminded of how little you're involved in our relationship… I pushed him away so you'd give me a real chance, because I deserve one," I pant with rage, hot tears streaming down my cheeks.

I sigh with frustration at her lack of understanding. Besides Greg might be our biggest issue, but there's more to it and I can't pretend everything is fine anymore.

"It's not just that Sara… I can see you being distant at times, just as if to say that what I had to offer wasn't enough, or attractive enough… and I know I can't… I get needy, I need to see you, to feel you close to me… I need you to be mine and only mine… and I can see that you don't feel the same and it hurts…I can't help thinking that I'm just a fling for you… you never feel like I do… and…" I trail off and try to catch my breath.

Sara's looking at me without any emotions; once again I don't reach her. I'm beginning to think that I never did to begin with. "I need someone who wants me the way I want them…"

"What…what do you mean 'someone'?" she pales a bit.

"I can't do this…" I let out with a tired breath.

Those words get a reaction from her; she frowns looking at me with a little panic in her eyes. "I'm tired Sar… tired of feeling alone when I'm with you; tired of having to push you to be involved with me; tired of feeling like I was the only one fighting here… I'm just tired of it all…" I shrug feeling sadness and exhaustion deforming my face in a wince.

She comes close to me and takes my hands into hers. They are cold at the touch; her skin feels dry and rough covered with cuts, her left one is completely covered with a bandage. "Cath, I'm with you at one hundred per cent, I just want to be with you. I want this," she cups my face with one hand, forcing me to look at her. "I want this, I want you, and I don't care how many times I have to reassure you on that fact," she delivers a sweet butterfly kiss on my lips. "I want to be with you and I'm ready to work on any issues we have."

Yeah, that strategy sure did wonders those past three months. She says that now, but nothing will change, I mean every time it's the same, I tell her about my issues, she assures me that it will be fine and in the end nothing changes. Well no, that's not true, my heart does get a little more wounded every time that happens.

She's still covering me with tiny kisses. The contact is soft in spite of the cuts on her lips, tender even, yet it makes me want to cry in anguish. I feel like suffocating because it's like she was refusing to understand me, to understand my issues. For the first time she reminds me of Eddie, he knew I was weak for him and he used it against me. And stupid as I was I gave in only to have my heart handed back to me in pieces.

Sara's my weakness, her touch is thinning my reason. I've been there before and right now my instincts are blasting all my alarm bells, telling me that this is a trap and I'll get hurt, again. In spite of it all I still want to have faith in Sara, in us…

"Do you love me?" I ask in a whisper.

She clearly looks surprised at my question, and while she's working her jaw around silence I feel my heart leaping up my throat and staying there to cut my airways. I take a deep breath not to throw up, I move to the side to get away from her but she tries to put her arms around my waist. I fight her embrace and I take a few steps away.

"I do, Cath."

"Yeah clearly, so much that you almost choke over it," I reply this time my voice is full of resent.

My insecurities all bubble up and mingle to turn into a violent rage. I'm furious; furious to have let myself be vulnerable again and trusted Sara not to hurt me; furious that I've convinced myself that this time will be different from the previous. In the end Sara is like all the others…

"So, I'm just a fling to you? All this is nothing but a joke…"

"How can you say something like that? It's not true… Cath please…"

I want to scream, to shake her senseless, anything to make her understand what she's putting me through. I told her from the get go that my heart was on the line. I told her that I loved her and she never said it back; I told myself that she was showing it, but now I know that the reason why she hasn't said it was because she didn't feel it. I wish she had just taken a knife and plunged the blade in my heart, cause the physical pain would somehow be bearable.

"I want to be with you Cath, I do… I do… I… I do have feelings for you…" the more she tries to say it, the more it looks like she had swallowed lemons.

"You can't even say it!" I spit in anger. "_I_ love you, I love you so much I… I gave you my heart and soul," I chuckle rancorously. "All I get is less than nothing…" tears spill out of my eyes. "I can't do this anymore Sara…" I pant while trying to wipe off my tears. I'm heaving, smothering my sobs.

"I love… you… Cath," she says weakly almost chocking down.

"Shut up…" I beg. "You don't mean it… you're just saying that now…"

She comes closer to me and tries to take me in her arms, but I fight her. She doesn't give up though; she embraces me, delivering salty kisses on my lips. "Please, please Cath… I want to be with you… I love you…" she repeats over and over again. "We can work this out…"

I get weaker at every kiss and a part of me wants to cave in, but my pain is much greater so I just push her away a little more. I have to push her physically away for her to stop. Her face is crestfallen, her eyes sunken with tears and she looks fragile but I don't fall for the doe eyes anymore; I know I'll be the one hurting again in the end, just like it has been the case since the beginning of our relationship.

I look away, pushes my fingers against my eyelids, trying in vain to stop the torrential flow of my tears. "I can't… it's over," my voice breaks the first time the words bubble out of my throat.

"No… no…" her voice comes as a strange sound now.

"We're done… it's over," I repeat with more conviction.

She kneels in front of my and circles my waist with her arms. "No, no… please… we can fix this… we can work it out… please…" she implores.

Her tears are wetting their way through my shirt, the hot liquid is burning my skin; it's hard not to feel for her, but she has broken my heart for good and I know I can't be with her when she doesn't want to be with me. She's begging because she doesn't want to be alone, not because she feels the same as I do. In the end the difference in our emotional wavelength killed our chances. I knew from the beginning that it wouldn't end well, and everyday with her was just another proof that she didn't love me like I love her… and she still doesn't… maybe it's just for now, maybe not… either way I don't have the energy left in me to wait and find out. I've been hurting much more in this relationship than I've been happy.

I let her weep on her knees, crying myself out as well "Let me go," I plea.

"No… please… I'm begging you…"

"Sara, let me go, damn it!" this time my touch is harsher, almost violent. I have to firmly grip her arms and force them open to get out of her embrace, and walk away. She stays down on the floor crying.

"I want you to leave… we're over," I repeat again before moving to my bedroom, needing to feel safe. Once I'm in my sanctuary all hell breaks loose.

I've always thought that I had felt pain before… now I know that I was wrong, it was nothing compare to what I'm feeling right now.

_**Sara's POV**_

I can't breathe.

I'm holding onto Cath, struggling to find oxygen. She's trying to move away, but I don't let go, afraid I might drown in my own despair if I do. I'm on my knees and my whole body is protesting against it but I don't care, my heart is being ripped apart and I can't let that happen.

"Sara, let me go, damn it!" Catherine spits at me as she's fighting the steel embrace I have around her hips.

I'm begging for her not to go, not to leave me, not to put an end to our relationship. But she doesn't listen to me, she just fights me so she can get away. When her body is disconnected from mine it's like a limb was ripped off of my body. I can't do anything else but cry my eyes out, suffocating.

"I want you to leave… we're over," she says again and I can't help the sob escaping my throat in response.

I crawl to the counter and try to find the strength to get on my feet. When I do, all I want is for the earth to open up and swallow me, just to put an end to my misery.

I bury my face in my hands, salty water pouring out of my eyes. I came here to fix things and I end up with a broken heart.

I knew we had issues but not to the point of breaking up. My mind is racing and I want to go see Cath, at the same time I don't know if I can take another round right now. I'm fighting to breathe properly, plunging my hands in my hair before balling them into fists with anger and despair. Guilt is invading me, increasing my anger, I want to bash my head against a wall for not being able to express myself properly, for messing things up, yet again.

I love Catherine, I do. I wasn't ready to say it but my actions showed it; obviously not enough because she had to ask me if I actually had feelings for her. I was so surprised that she'd doubt it that I froze for a moment. Then no matter how hard I tried the words wouldn't leave my throat. I've never been good at intimate confessions, and those three words have always been difficult for me to utter, especially in a romantic way.

I know I have feelings for Catherine, just like I know that my heart is in pieces right now.

"Stupid… stupid, stupid," I bump my fists against my skull.

I ruined it, I always do the same. I do it all wrong, what is wrong with me? Why am I so inept at relationships? It's not fucking rocket science, then why can't I do it right? It's like sick cycle, every time I get close to someone at some point I ruin it all; I hurt the people I care about the most. I don't do it intentionally, but my inaptitude to deal with my own emotional issues always gets in the way.

"Fucking hell, do something Sidle!" I order myself. I keep hitting my head as if it could give me the answers I'm cruelly lacking.

I don't want it to be over. I can't let go just now, I have to do something. I refuse to let go, I'm not going to accept her decision without fighting for it.

I berate myself a few more times then run to Catherine's bedroom. I enter without knocking, she's sitting on her bed, her elbows on her thigh, her face buried in her hands. I go to her and kneel in front of her for the second time.

"Get out… leave me alone," she says weakly.

"No, I'm going anywhere…" my voice is shaky and my mind is racing at great speed, making it hard for me to think. "I don't want it to be over…" I plead taking her hands in mine, holding onto them tightly in spite of her effort to cut the contact. "I don't want it to be over… I love you Cath," I say in one breath. The words sound foreign in my mouth even though I know they truly represent what I feel.

She looks away, but I put a hand on her cheek to force her to look at me.

"I mean it, I do… Cath."

We stare at each other silently, with watery eyes. I only see doubt and sadness in her, I hate myself because I know that I'm the one responsible for everything; I want to put the joyful sparkle back in her eyes, the one that was there when she looked at me when we got together.

"You love me uh?" she echoes my words, there's no warmth in her voice, just bitterness and disgust.

"I do," I affirm before trying to swallow the golf ball in my throat.

"In that case, I want you to stop seeing Greg," she demands, unflinching. I feel like I had just received a breath cutting punch in the guts.

She glares at me sombrely. She's algid, as if she knew exactly what she was asking. For her it's the ultimate proof of love… for me it's too high a price to pay.

If my life was a house, Greg would belong to its foundations, cutting him off of it would make my house crumble down, making it forever unbalanced. I need the balance, I need to feel grounded. I had to fight tooth and nail to get the balance I have right now; I can't let go of it because my life does depend on it.

But I don't want to lose Catherine, I don't want us to be over; at the same time I know I can't give her what she wants from me. I can't respond positively to her ultimatum.

The lines of her face are disturbed with anger. "It's either me or him. You can't have both," she state firmly. "I can't keep on like this, keep pretending I'm okay with it when I'm not; pretending that I'm not hurt that you are closer to him than me; pretending that this is enough when it's not… it hurts too much… I can't let you stomp on my heart like you do…"

"Don't ask me that… please… you can't ask me such a thing… please… anything but that… don't ask me that…" I beg with a shake of my head.

Her expression is hard and cold, unforgiving. "If you love me, you'll do it," she says firmly. "You're mine and I don't want you hanging around with him anymore, because he's keeping you away from me."

Something snaps in me at her words, it all feels wrong, the hurts is there but distant. But it all come back suddenly it all rushes back to my veins and chest, like a red iron marking me deeply. I want to fight for this, but I can't do what she's asking me. I can't win, I lose no matter what, only in one case I won't be able to deal with the consequence of it.

I can see everything falling apart, and I'm powerless to hold it back. I slump down with resignation, letting go of her hands. I want to tell her that I'd do anything, give a kidney away, eat glass, go to hell and back, but what she's asking is off the table. She might as well ask me never to see my family again.

She snorts with a mean with a contrite smile. "We're over," she says with venom. "Get out."

"Cath…"

"Get the hell out of my house! We're over, you hear me? Over!" she screams.

I stand up slowly, I look at her but she refuses to look at me, completely shutting me out for good. I walk out, dazed, numb by this white hot pain destroying me from inside. I rush to the kitchen sink when I suddenly feel sick. Bile sets my inside in fire, it's moment before I'm dry heaving. I splash my face with cold water and rinse my mouth, but I still feel nauseous.

I turn my back to the steel basin and lean against it. My legs give up on me again; I slide down the counter and find myself sitting on the floor. I sob silently again. I'm suffocating, I wish I could go back in time, make everything right again.

I lift my head up at the sound of steps, I'm hopeful for a second that it's Catherine coming back to me, saying that she didn't mean it, that she was just upset and that we're going to be fine again. I blink tears away when I see Lindsey's snickers.

She's standing there a few feet away from me, looking at me with a hard stare. The role are reversed, I'm the kid and she's the adult; I do feel tiny next to her. I try to compose myself again, I use one of my sleeves to erase the tears covering my cheeks. I struggle to get back on my feet, using the counter for support. I look down at my feet first before affronting her stare.

"Don't you have practice, today?" I snivel.

"Practice was cancelled… told you that three days ago," she states with a flat voice. I look at her with dread. "I was in my room doing my homework… screams disturbed me… or maybe that was the sound of my mother crying her eyes out… couldn't say which," she pretends to consider with a shrug and a pout, her blue eyes darken considerably. I look at my feet again, unable to sustain her stare. "You know what I can't figure out though?" she asks rhetorically. "Why you're here… doing… _nothing_ about it," her voice is sharp, and her words are cutting through me like knives.

"I tried…"

"Really?"

"Linds… it's not easy…"

"Since when is it supposed to be?" she spits.

I grit my teeth, sudden anger gripping me. Lindsey is a bright girl and she has been through enough to be a little more mature than most people her age, that and emotionally strong. I know she feels like she has to be strong for her mother, but she's still a teenager who sometimes is oblivious to the shades of grey.

"I can't give her what she's asking me…"

"Fix it or get out of here," she says, ignoring my words.

I'm panting, my mouth is dry and I can't find anything to tell her. If I did find something to say it wouldn't matter anyway, the only thing that matters is that I failed Catherine and her by extension. I pass a hand over my face and take a deep breath.

I reach out for one drawer open it and take a spoon out of it, I put it on the table, Lindsey looks at it emotionlessly then returns her gaze upon me. I can't bear her stare, so I look away; the need to get out of here grows to the point of choking me; so I all but bolt to the door past Lindsey.

"Don't go…" her voice stops me on my tracks. I turn around to look at her, her expression is undecipherable. The rules were clear, and I accepted them, the spoon now lying on the table is a testimony of my acceptation and failure; I'm confused as to why she'd ever want me to stay now. She contains her emotions but I can see a hint of anger mixed with pain in her eyes. "She's scared… that's all…don't give up easily…" her voice is firm so she doesn't appear like she was begging.

I swallow hard and look away for a second before looking at her again. "I can't give her what she wants… I tried not to hurt her… but I failed…" I look away again to stop my tears flowing again. I'd say I'm sorry, but I know that if I do she'll take it as an insult. "I can't give her what she's asking…" I repeat as a fatality. "I just can't…" I chuckle sadly, she has the pride of her mother. "You take care," I say before turning to the door again.

I hear her snort bitterly. "I'll be too busy cleaning your mess for that," she spits. "Don't bother coming back," she says with despise, whatever we may have shared just burnt down into ashes, like my relationship with Catherine.

I don't really realize what's happening, I know I drive to my apartment but for some reason I can't stay in it because I feel myself slowly slipping into insanity; it's like something very malevolent is bubbling to the surface, something so scary that it sends chills to my bones; I focus hard to block everything out and I leave my apartment again. I have one last notch on my safety belt and I will hang onto it. Years before I would have let my destructive instincts win, now I have some restrain or at least I can keep a clear mind a bit longer.

The need to hurt myself is like Damocles' sword above my head, and right now it's swinging on one single thread. I want nothing more than to shut the pain I feel in me right now; I need to numb myself for survival purpose; yet I know that if I give in it'll be a long walk in hell to get back on healthy ground.

_**Adam's POV**_

"Kems!" my son Keenan exclaims as my eldest son Finley who's sitting next to me puts down his cards revealing four identical cards.

"Oh come on! Dad! I've been signing to you for ages now!" my cadet, Thaddeus, who's sitting at the table across from me next to Keenan, moans with a laugh.

"I wasn't sure!" I defend myself with a chuckle.

I must say that I'm happy to have a close relationship with my kids. I'm not saying it's always easy, especially since I'm on my own but we get by. Losing Beth threw the whole balance of our family off, but it brought us even more together because we were all lost and grieving. They lost their mother, and I lost my wife and best friend. Sure our family wasn't perfect before, it's still not now, and will never be, and since we lost Beth it will always be incomplete; but my children and I are making the most of the cards we've been dealt with.

"We have to change our signal then because we've been losing for the third time in a row," Thad keeps on.

We're playing a card game, each partner are on one side of a table, everyone has four cards in hand, four cards are displayed on the table and changed once everyone is done trading; everyone trade card until they can gather four identical cards. The player with the four of a kind hand must make a discreet sign to their partner who's the only one to call the hand by saying 'Kems'. If the other team notice what's going on and guess the four of a kind hand they shout 'busted' and win the point.

It's a funny game really, although I think I'm crap at explaining it, I mean I tried playing with my siblings once and it took me more than an hour to make them understand how to play. It took my sons five minutes to get the point across… that's how bad I am.

The four of us are laughing, Keenan reminds everyone of the score before gloating with Finley. We all decide to have two more hands before watching a movie.

There's suddenly a loud knocking on the door. We all turn to the entrance of our home, the noise has to start again for us to realize that it originates from my office. My sons put their cards down and start cleaning the table.

"Guess we'll watch the movie without you," Keenan smiles softly.

I feel bad about cutting our moment short, even though I know that they perfectly understand and cope with my job. Still, one can never have too many good times with their family.

"Sorry lads," I apologise nonetheless.

"Right, I'm sure you planned this interruption because we were beating you," Finley jokes. I hook an arm around his neck and affectionately rub his hair.

"You got that right smarty pants," I reply before letting him go, not without a kiss on his crown. "There's dinner…"

"In the kitchen, don't worry, dad, we got it," Keenan as he's putting all the cards in their pack.

"Alright," I raise my hands in surrender. "Be good now," I advise before turning to the door leading to my office, mechanically glancing at my watch. When I notice the time I turn back around to Finley. "Call Charlie and ask her if she's coming back home tonight or not and if she needs a ride," I instruct.

"Sure," he grins. "Dad…" he calls me hesitantly. "I really want us to finish our talk…"

"So do I," I assure him.

"Tomorrow then?"

"Anytime," I wink before resuming my walk.

I exit the main house cross the small lobby then enter my office; the banging on my door hasn't stopped nor lessened intensity. When I open the door I discover a bad shaped Sara. She has a bruised face and I wonder if her body hides more wounds.

"Are you okay? You look like you've been in a car wreck," I ask with concern.

"I was, five days ago but that's irrelevant," she pushes her way in my office. I immediately notice her sharp tone and pick up on the anger already on the surface, if I didn't know any better I'd say that she just bumped into me with her shoulder accidentally.

I close the door and watch her pace, I notice fresh wounds on her hands, yet I can make out scratches on her upper arms.

"You know I thought we had… an understanding…that… you," she points a finger at me "That's you weren't like the others… that we had…" she growls. "I fucking _trusted_ you!" she shouts.

I don't say anything, in fact I haven't moved away from the door yet; I'm 'taking the temperature' so to speak. I need to know what brought her here, and the only way to do that is to let her get off whatever's weighting on her chest.

"I've been watching my life going down the drain… and it occurred to me…that you weren't like the others, nope you are much worse… you're just a sneaky and manipulative son of a bitch!" she pushes the ball of her palms against her forehead.

I'm surprised, taken aback even by her sudden hatred, but even more I'm intrigued as to what is the cause of this.

"Oh how you must have been laughing your ass off… you're just like…" she mutters the rest unintelligibly. But that's enough for me to know that I'm not the real core of the problem.

"You just pulled your little strings with Catherine…and she just took it in stride… I confided in you and you just played me and everyone along… destroying everything I had…" she trails off "You're all the same… all of you… treating me like…"

She resumes her pacing and starts mumbling. I take a moment to consider my course of action. Sara has always been tough to deal with. I'm number seven on the line which mean that every single question is perceived as an aggression, therefore she throws all her defensive arsenal at me, and as a result I don't get easily through her defence lines. So far, at the exception of some 'pacific' moments, every time I've had to make her confront her deeper issues it has been through emotionally rough and violent struggles.

It's a pattern, on the rare times she felt too weak to fight she pushed herself on her own and lay her issues in the open; but every other times I had to push her or let Catherine push her, push her until she had no other option left; and that cornered feeling always resolved into violent outbursts.

There's one thing I've come to understand though, sometimes I believe that willingly or not, like right now, she leaves me an opening as if she was inviting me to strike; maybe unconsciously she's aware that it's the only way she knows how to let it all out, at least for now.

I'm not saying that she likes the emotional abuse, but rather that she has things she wants to let out and that it's her only way to cope with it.

I take a deep breath, I know for certain that we're touching a very delicate topic; and there's no way around the incoming confrontation. Sometimes I have several tries to make Sara face her issues, now isn't one of those times.

Whatever has precipitated her visit has rattled her deeply. She said once that as long as she could think clearly she'd use me as her last safeguard. For her to be here and sober from what I gather means that she's thinking clearly. There are two things now that are for certain. For one she's already on the edge – if not already dangling dangerously from the edge; therefore if I let her get out of my office without facing whatever is tormenting her right now, I lose her for good. Second, this is going to be an ugly and brutal moment.

I walk away from the door, closer to her personal space. "Had I known we were having a pity party, I'd have made some cupcakes," I state flatly. I immediately gain her attention, she stops pacing and faces me, rage oozing from her.

"This isn't a pity party," she says through her teeth.

"Got me fooled," I state with a pout. I walk away from her and sit in my armchair.

"It's a fuck you party," her voice is full of aggressiveness. "Fuck you… fuck you for violating my trust… fuck you for throwing my life upside down…"

"Right, I'm the asshole and you're the victim…sure sounds like a pity party to me."

"I'm not…" she shakes her head.

"You're not what?" I push her a little bit more. I can see her flinch a bit and I know that I've hit one of her weak spots. She composes herself again. "You're not what, Sara?" I repeat.

"Fuck you…" she repeats.

"Right, you might as well say nothing," I shrug.

She balls her fists tight. "You played me all along… You enjoy your little power… you wait for me to be good then you break me… got a hard on from it, didn't you?" she speaks with a venom laced voice. "You did it on purpose… you… " she groans in frustration. "She broke up with me… and it's your entire fault…" she says through clenched teeth.

"You can't hold me responsible for other people's actions."

"Your words… your fucking advices made her do what she did… and it pisses me off…"

"Jump," I cut her off.

"What?" she narrows her eyes at me.

"I said, jump, Sara," I repeat slowly. She keeps looking at me with anger and confusion, so I continue after a minute of silence. "You're not jumping… therefore I guess my words don't have the kind of power you give them," I make my point. "So I'll say it again, you can't blame me for other people's actions or choices."

"Don't you play innocent now… like you didn't know that you influence people when they come to you and you give them advices," she spits. "You know what you're doing…"

"And what is that Sara?"

"You fuck with people's minds! I know you're the reason why Catherine did what she did!" she explodes. "The funny part is that I'm the only one being fucked over in the story… why did you do that to me?" she asks with a wince. "Why did you…" she groans with frustration, unable to let out what's oppressing her.

I look at her impassively as she's shooting daggers at me with her eyes. It's time for me to take the gloves off and attack her head-on. I purposefully glance at my watch and let out a sigh. "Okay, times up," I announce sharply. I push myself off my armchair into a standing position. "Pity party's over, now let's grow up and talk, shall we?" my tone is unpleasant.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Sara looks at me with a mix of fear and anger.

"Nothing's wrong with me Sara, I'm just telling you that if you want to talk to me that's fine, but you'll have to address me as an adult, not whining teenager. I'm not your babysitter, so grow up," I keep on with an algid voice.

I've said it before, Sara is a tough shell to crack; but just like for everyone else there are a few buttons she doesn't like to have pushed. For one, she has a problem with authority; talking to her like I do right now irks her to no end, which means that from this very moment on no matter what I do or say she'll stand up to me out of principle and until one of us gives up.

She's breathing heavily to temper herself. "She broke up with me… and I know that what you told her made that happened… "

"Nuh-huh, what did we say?" I raise my finger. "Everyone is responsible for their own actions," I repeat firmly, almost patronizing. "If she broke up with you, she had a reason for that," I state. "Any idea on the subject?"

"Fuck you!" she says hotly.

"Oh really, we're back to that?" I snort. "Come on, surely you can do better."

My words stung her and she moves to my face but forces herself to keep a distance. "Fuck you okay? You don't know anything!" she points a finger at me before balling her fist again. She holds my gaze for a moment, fury pouring from her eyes, then she turns around and starts pacing. "Fuck you, Doc," she mutters with her back to me.

"Your lack of elaborate vocabulary might have driven her away, ever thought about that?" I provoke her.

"Go to hell," she spits.

"Ah, progress, nice," I keep on with fake admiration.

She looks at me again. "Stop taking the piss at me!"

"You came here, deal with it," I simply reply. "So… you forgot her birthday?"

"No, I've done nothing wrong…"

"Oh that's right, you're the victim…"

"Don't… use that word," she warns me.

"What word?" I ask innocently.

She snorts with a smirk. "She…" she stops herself. She shakes her head. "You're just all the same… forcing me to do something, then turning it all around against me when it suits you…" she reflects aloud. "She tells me that she doesn't want to hear anything about Greg, the mere mention of his name makes her cringe… I respect that… then she goes behind my back tell him that _I_ want him to stay away from me… by doing so, she puts me in a funk, but I can't tell her that because that means mentioning Greg and she can't stand it… and I can't be mad, because it's not that bad right? …it's not like she was trying to erase half of my life…" she chuckles humourlessly.

She's pacing as she's ranting, there's an edge in her voice and she's not talking to me, it's more like she was talking to herself. "No, I must be understanding… because she destroyed one of the things I cherish the most, for _us_… somehow, somewhere it's beneficial for _us_… no good things can come from destroying the important things in my life… I mean…" her breathing has become laborious as if she was suffocating.

"You're all the same…" she repeats while rubbing her forehead. "I did what she wanted me to… and still she broke up with me…" this time she passes a hand on her eyes. "You always do that…"

"Do what?" I ask after a long silence.

She's looking aside, lost in thoughts. "You always give me crappy choices… I always lose no matter what…" she spits angrily.

All feelings are complicated, but of all the panel of emotions one can go through, there's one in particular that is tricky: anger. Anger can be raw, but most of the time it will be used to shade another feeling, be it fear, frustration, desire, envy, jealousy or else.

Sara is hurt by what has unfolded in her life lately, but there's much more to it; those events have triggered something in her which is more violent than usual, something she can't handle; something that runs very deep. Her emotional instability is a sign of distress, but I can't help her until she tells me what she needs.

"Why are you angry?" I repeat firmly, making sure to always channel her focus.

"She broke up with me…"

"And that makes you angry?" she doesn't answer. "Surely you know by now that the 'ever after part' is just as tough and out of reach than the 'happily' one. It's doesn't mean you'll never get it, just that you'll hurt a lot before getting there and even more to keep it that way."

"You think I'm stupid?" she bursts.

"Alright, she broke up with you… so what?" I ask jadedly.

"So what?" she repeats, surprised that I don't get her point.

"Yes Sara, so what? This isn't a dating service, or the heartbroken meeting. You didn't come here to only tell me this. If you're looking for a friendly ear, obviously you've taken a wrong turn somewhere on your way."

"Stop…fuck!" she replies. "I came here because… I'm angry because I wasn't… because she… she…because of what you did!"

"And we're making a circle again," I roll my eyes.

She grunts and grabs hold of hair as if she was about to pull it of. "All the same…" she mutters.

"Why are you angry?"

"I just told you," she states sharply.

"No, Sara, I'm asking for the real reason why you are angry."

"I fucking told you I'm angry because of what you all put me through…"

I start to close the distance between us, so I'm literally on her face. "Fine, tell me what we did then. Why are you angry Sara?"

"Because…"

"That's not an answer. Why are you angry, Sara"

"Right now I'm angry because you're being a prick!" she puts her finger up to my face.

"Meh, tough shit." I shrug. "Why are you angry?" I keep on.

"Stop doing that!" she holds a finger in the air.

"Answer me and I'll stop. Why are you so angry?"

"I fucking told you! Because… you… you hurt me! All of you! You, Catherine, Greg… the whole lot of you!"

"How so?"

"You… you all… you always do that… you always do the same!"

"Do what? Forcing you to grow up and face your issues? Yeah, apparently it's part of my job"

"Stop fucking around!"

"I'm just trying to figure out what you're whining about," I tell

"I'm not…"

"Whining? Is this a joke?" I snort. "Tell me something, you like being the victim don't you?"

"I'm warning you, don't use that word!"

Like I had foreseen she won't back out, but whatever she's feeling is coated with anger. Anger is like her armour and as long as she won't shade it I won't be able to reach out an eventually help her. I can feel that whatever her vulnerability is, it's bubbling up though, right now Sara's ticking bomb. I need to push her the right way so she explodes and lets go of her anger.

"What? Victim? Isn't that what you are though?"

"Don't… stop that," she shakes her head.

I take a step closer to her, there's now barely a metre and a half between us, her personal space is starting to shrink down.

"You come in here and whine about how the world is mean to you… boohoo look at me, I'm a victim…"

"Don't… say that word…" she's forcing the words out of her mouth, her jaw is tightly clenched and her knuckles are white from the pressure she's applying on her fists.

"Victim, victim, victim…" I repeat, still reducing the distance between us. "You're the one blaming everyone for everything… you're the one playing the victim…"

"Shut up."

"I don't think so. Have you forgotten? I'm the master in command here. My office, my rules," I remind her with a slightly condescending tone. "If you don't like what you're hearing, the door's behind you."

She's staring at me with unadulterated hatred, as strong as her desire to go is, her need to stand up to me is even greater.

"Shut the fuck up," her tone is low, she's so edgy that her voice is trembling.

"Go on Sara, run away. Be a coward, like a good little victim. We both know how you enjoy the part."

"Don't say that fucking word again," she threats me.

I'm in her personal space now and I can see her whole body shaking a bit as she's stiff with anger.

"Oh come on Sara. It's not like you were actually going to do anything. You want to be a victim fine… but be a victim all the wa…"

The sudden sharp pain in my jaw surprises me, I'm off balance with the momentum; I barely register that Sara has hit me when I feel another blow in my face, followed by another one. The next one in my stomach cuts my breath to bluntly that I'm forced to put a knee down.

"I'm a victim! I'm not your thing anymore Daddy!" she explodes. "I'm not a fucking thing… you can't use me like this… I'm not a fucking thing Daddy… I'm someone…" Sara explodes.

There we are, finally.

She's panting and her eyes are glazed over. She's not here, in my office, right now she's somewhere else, and I'm not me. We've finally reach the first step under the surface.

The pain in her fists must register with her because I can see the flicker in her eyes indicating that she's back with me, and she's realizing what she has done "I mean… Adam…" her slip finally sinks in, she brings her hands over her face. "Shit… shit…"

I knew it was going to be ugly and violent, call me stupid but I hadn't seen her fists coming into play. I mean sure I was expecting her to want to punch me, not to actually do it.

"Damn it… I warned you about pushing me!" she shouts her reproach putting her hands on her head. "Fuck," she curses herself.

She paces a few moments then kicks my coffee table several time before turning it upside down.

"You're all like him…pushing me… hurting me… treating me like I was nobody! Like I didn't matter, like I was a toy you can use as you see fit!" she screams with an accusing tone. "You treat me like a thing! She treats me like a thing! Greg treats me like a thing! Just like he did… you build me up then you crush me just because you can… destroying what I care about all the while making me choose which way I want to see things burn in flames… like you couldn't hurt me enough…"

She crushes her fists into the nearest wall before turning to me again and passing her hands over her face, pushing the balls of her palms in her eyes, before leaning against the bookshelf.

I'm still trying to catch my breath from her punch. I get on my feet and bring my fingertips to my face, confirming that I'm indeed bleeding from my nose and mouth. I don't formalize myself and use my sleeve to wipe the red liquid a first time. I move a bit closer to her, but keep a distance between us and sit on the arm of the couch.

I close my eyes for a moment just to really take in the past few minutes and adjust myself to the pain. She didn't hold anything back to say the least; it hurts really bad and it's bleeding slowly but steadily. I pass a hand in my hair and sigh.

"Then why did you let it go on?" I ask, getting her attention again. She closes her eyes tightly and shakes her head.

"Don't…" she utters with a wince. "Please…"

"Why, Sara? You're not half as clueless as you pretend to be. You might not have known the specifics all the time, but you had suspicions, yet you let it go on for months… why?"

"Why are you doing this to me?" she asks with a pleading voice, her eyes watery with incoming tears.

I forced her out of her angry armour, and now she's vulnerable, exposed. I use my sleeve to absorb a bit of blood from my split lip and nose.

"Why, Sara?"

"Give up already… please… don't push…" she begs.

"I can't."

"Why not?" she asks with frustration.

"Because you came here, you came to me," I simply answer still breathing a bit laboriously. "Answer me, why did you let things go on for months when you could have done something about it right away?" I wipe my mouth again and feel slightly nauseated when I swallow some blood.

She bumps her head softly against the bookshelf several times with her eyes closed. "Because… because I don't feel anything ever since…" she tails off. "It's like I was dead inside…" she finally confess. "I try to block the feeling out… but it kept growing…" she sobs as heavy tears are spilling from her eyes. "Because feeling miserable was better than not feeling anything at all…"

She gives up fighting me, resignation weights on her entire body and she lets herself slide down on the floor. "It like this feeling was swallowing me whole…and now I'm alone…I'm afraid," she heaves. "I'm afraid of what I could do to myself…cause I know I can't handle it anymore…" she admits, heaving with anguish. "Please, help me…" she manages to say before completely breaking down.

So this is why she came to me. She came to push the alarm button.

I watch her for a minute or two, debating with myself as to what I should do. I decide to breach protocol, I had to be an asshole to bring her to admit she needed help, and right now… well I'll blame it on the punches, but the human being inside me can't take it impassively.

I wipe the last drops of blood from my face then walk to her and sit down by her side. I move slowly so I wrap my arms around her, she lets me hold her while gut wrenching sobs rack through her body.

I hold her silently. I push my thoughts back, I'll have the time to think about the hard things ahead; think about how I can help her until we find a new solution. Yes, because my sensitivity has just created a new set of problems. I shouldn't be comforting her nor keep her from shattering into pieces.

I should just be in my chair watching her breakdown and drown; waiting for her to put it together before prescribing her something to numb her enough to forget that she's falling apart; not sitting next to her with my arm protectively wrap around her shoulders.

Well screw it. Screw the lines, screw the ethic, screw the protocol. I know that holding her is the only behaviour to have right now, acting any other way would be like handing her a gun and invite her to swallow it.

If that makes a bad shrink out of me, so be it.

So be it.

**To Be Continued…**

* * *

**The interaction between Sara and Linds refers to a conversation they had on the chap 35 (for those who wonder about the spoon)**

**So, t****his is it, it's the end of **_**What do you shrink?**_**. I know, I know it lets a lot of things unsaid and unresolved but as I've said before there's a sequel in the oven, sequel which should complete that story.**

**Thank you all for your reviews and for following me through the ride. I personally enjoyed it all the way; I know it is not be the case for everyone, and then I'm sorry but I can't always give you what you want.**

**I've started bits and pieces of the sequel already, but I might take a little breather before really getting into it. (who knows, I might actually write a real one shot…)**

**Once again, thanks for reading, for taking time to review, for all your words of encouragement, even for the flames. Thank you, thank you, thousands times thank you very, very much. :D**

**Right, I'm off then but I'll be back with more soon.**

**Thanks for reading.**

**Cheers everyone  
**

**Frostie ;)**


End file.
